Blue Moon
by thesixthcourier
Summary: This is my own twist on Fallout: New Vegas. Harley the Courier is my own character, along with a few others you might not recognize. I don't own anything else. I put my own thoughts and feelings into the characters, so they may be slightly different than in game. There is a large chunk of this that is all my own imagining and will tie in with the game later. Rated M for later.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Welcome to Goodsprings

I couldn't recall much of what happened – a black and white checkered suit…a package of some sort. That's about it. I struggled to roll over on my side; a sharp pain burst through my skull, making me wince. My eyes were still closed. I thought that the longer I kept them shut, the sleepier it would make me. My entire body thumped with tired achiness. A desperate need to sleep for a couple days washed over me. At least I was lying on a mattress…haven't done that in a while.

The smell of dust and cleaner filled my nose. There was a soft whirring noise somewhere near me. Where was I? There was a faint metal scraping sound, and I couldn't tell if it was near me, or miles away. I _could_ tell there was another person near me, and my instincts yelled at me to jump up, open my eyes, and get away from here. The blood rushing in my head and the pounding in my ears told me to stay. I could at least crack my eyes open a bit…

There was an older gentleman sitting on a chair only a few feet from the side of the bed. He has an air of knowledge about him, and the wrinkles around his eyes told me he laughed a lot. Good. Enjoying life isn't something you see much of out here. He was bald and had a gnarly white mustache. I fully opened my eyes and we stared at each other for what seemed like hours, his soft blue eyes into my bright green eyes. Finally, I tried sitting up.

He reached an arm out to steady me, "Whoa, hold on there. You've been out cold for a good five days, now."

Fuzziness washed over my eyes, and nausea racked my stomach. I vomited stomach acid right on his hardwood floors.

"Eh…well, maybe you should lie back down?" He suggested. Judging by my stiff neck and aching back, that was the last thing I wanted to do. My head thumped, and with it, my vision got blurry then clear, blurry, then clear.

He disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a towel and a mirror. The bile made my throat burn and mouth sticky. I held my head in my hands – mostly from embarrassment, but partially because the room was doing insane tricks, like spinning around in circles. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, but I couldn't get my vocal cords to work. After a few tries of just moans, I finally croaked out a "'orry."

He looked up at me and had a genuine smile on his face, "Dear, you'd be surprised how many people get sick on my floor. Trust me, you're not the first."

I guess that sentiment made me feel better, but I was still pretty embarrassed. I tried to pull my elbows of my legs, and they stuck with sweat. Oh. My. God. I'm only wearing panties? Engage embarrassment mode…again.

"Uhm…mister-"

"Doc Mitchell," He quickly corrected.

"Can I…get dressed?"

He laughed heartily; he could tell I was embarrassed. I'm not sure why I was, to be honest. Back home, both the men and woman went topless. Maybe it's because he wasn't family? He broke me out of my thoughts by telling me my leather vest was covered in blood. I raised an eyebrow in question, and my skull sent a shock wave of pain through the rest of my body, almost as if in response. He sat back down in his chair, rooting through an old footlocker.

Okay, so my leather gear had some blood on it? It looked like he tried to clean it off, because it was smeared in circles. Still perfectly wearable. Just bloody.

"You look a little smaller than my wife…I've got an old vault jumpsuit of hers if you want it," He offered, kindly.

"Why am I here?" I asked, still sounding like a frog was stuck in my throat.

"Well that metal feller, Victor, brought you here. You was half dead, shot right in the head. Lucky you survived."

"What…?"

"Well, Victor, he's the town robot. Some say he belonged to Mr. House at some point. Anyways, he's a nice enough guy. Said a feller in a real nice suit and a couple o' thug looking guys was arguing up in the cemetery. When you finally woke up, the guy in the suit said a few words to you, then shot you right in the head."

I tried to pull up the memories in the fuzziness. It made my head thump in protest, but I got my point across and a few started playing. A checkered coat…the man in it looked real clean and proper. Probably a New Vegas type. I struggled to bring the other two men into view, but I was focusing on checkered suit's hand. He was absentmindedly turning something over in it. It was round and shiny, that's all I could see from my position on the ground. He held it up and it was a…platinum poker chip. I was delivering a platinum poker chip to Freeside. I heard him say a few words, but all that stuck in my head was "rigged from the start." He pulled the trigger, and a flash of light went off before everything got dark.

"Doc…What did I have on me when I was brought in?"

"It's all in this footlocker here. But first, maybe you should have a look yourself. I take pride in my needlework, so lemme know how it looks." He put a mirror in my hand and pushed the footlocker towards me.

I looked at myself and gasped in surprise. Was I really the same Courier delivering a poker chip five days ago? Both of my eyes had clearing bruises and my cheek bones were even more sunken in than usual. The thing that really caught me off guard was my hair. Thick, dark red, down to my waist, and poker straight – and half of it was shaved! I could understand why – there was a row of stitches from my temple, leading to the middle of my head. In the middle of the right side of my head, there was a large square-ish shape of stitches as well. Every time I blinked, I could feel the skin pulling on the stitches. It didn't hurt, it just felt strange. I let out a moan, half of my beautiful hair! It was probably the best thing about me.

Doc Mitchell seemed startled, "What's wrong?"

"My hair! Half of it's gone!"

He let out a hearty chuckle, "Had to do that to get the bullet out. Apparently, your assailant was a crack-shot. It scraped your temple before embedding itself right in between your brain box and your brain. Most of the bullet was sticking out, but I had to cutcha open to get the rest of the scrap metal out. It was incredible – missed your brain by less than a hair! You're very lucky…but I still knew you'd be cross with me," His smile touched his eyes as he poked fun.

"You're right," I said half-jokingly. I couldn't be too mad – a half a head of hair was a very small price to pay for my life. Back home, women of power were to let their hair grow. Only one of us was allowed to shave it, and that was Tyler. She was a very special case – but her story will come later, at a more convenient time.

"That mark on your arm…mean something?" He asked.

"Oh..uh, yeah," I reached up to touch it, "I…I come from a small tribe in Utah. We're given tattoos when we're old enough to distinguish which village we're from." I almost hated admitting I was from a tribe if I didn't know what the other person thought of tribespeople. For some reason, it seemed like the people of Nevada didn't take well to tribals.

"You sound embarrassed. Nothing wrong with being from a tribe. I heard tribespeople are the mightiest warriors around. And you must be to survive a bullet in your head."

I puffed out my chest proudly, but my cheeks reddened when I realized I was still shirtless.

"I should let you get dressed," He said, helping me up. Another wave of dizziness washed over me, and I was surprised I didn't get sick again. "Meet me in the kitchen. You ain't had nothin' to eat since you were brought in to me."

I dug around in the footlocker and pulled out my old duffle bag. Inside was my 9mm pistol, that I usually only used when my Caravan Shotgun (named Romulus) was out of ammo. I had a cleaver, a bag of maybe 50 bottlecaps, a couple of empty plastic baggies, a box of matches, bobby pins that I used to pull my hair back with, and ammo for both of my guns. I pulled on the long sleeve white undershirt, strapped the vest on over top of it, put on the matching leather pants, and strapped my boots on, taking my time. Every unplanned jerk or movement made my head swim in protest. I headed out to the kitchen, making the wall support me.

"Everything in order?" He asked.

"I guess…I can't remember much, though."

He slid an old, yellowing, wrinkled note across the table at me. I raised an eyebrow, and he simply nodded towards the note. The smell of cooking meat was wafting through the air, and it made my mouth water. I wouldn't say it out loud, but I definitely hoped it was for me. He got up to retrieve it off the stove, which amazed me that it still even worked. It was most likely jury-rigged and it smelled weird, but hey. It cooked food, right?

I took a look at the note that said, "Courier Six" on the front. I unfolded it to reveal a lengthy message on the inside; "_INSTRUCTIONS: deliver this package to the Vegas Strip by way of Freeside. An agent of the recipient will meet you at the checkpoint, take possession of the package and pay for the delivery. Bring the payment to Johnson Nash at the Mojave Express agency in Primm._

_Bonus upon completion: 250 caps._

_MANIFEST: This package contains:_

_One (1) Oversized Poker Chip, composed of Platinum._

_CONTRACT PENALTIES: You are an authorized agent of the Mojave Express Package until the delivery is complete and payment has been processed, contractually obligated to complete this transaction and materially responsible for any malfeasance or loss. Failure to deliver to the proper recipient may result in forfeiture of your advance and bonus, criminal charges, and/or pursuit by mercenary reclamation teams. The Mojave Express if not responsible for any injury or loss of life you experience as a result of any reclamation efforts._"

I thought on it for a minute. I was still delivering the package, and I was making awesome timing if I do say so myself…so he wasn't a reclamation guy. Too clean for the job anyways. I snorted at that last line; "not responsible for loss of life."

Doc Mitchell startled me from my thoughts as he plunked a cup of coffee and a plate of brownish meat with corn and carrots down in front of me. I was scarfing my food down so fast, I barely got a "thank you" out between mouthfuls. He let out a bit of a laugh, and said after I ate he wanted to do some sort of test to "make sure my dogs are still barking." It was silly stuff like "what's the first thing you think of when I say…" and inkblot tests. He said I seemed fine…maybe I had a bit of an anger problem, aside from all the thumping in my head. He said that was normal and I could stick around until I felt okay.

"I honestly feel fine. I really appreciate what you've done. I only have 50 caps, but I'll bring you more later."

"It's perfectly fine. I couldn't just let you die out there. This time, it's on the house. You know…I never did get your name."

I looked at him for a minute. My name was the only thing I owned and I hated giving it out. But…he did just save my life. I owe him that much, I suppose. I was so used to being called "Courier" for the last five years, or "Courier Six" as of late, that it just kinda stuck. I didn't mind it. But my mother named me after her mother. It was strange that I struggled to bring even her into view. A tall, skinny woman with long brown hair and hands worked to the bone. Since I've become a courier, I haven't really even been home. Now, I have a score to settle, and I hoped that even after all of this, I'd be home to see her.

"My name is Harley. My great-grandparents grew up in a vault that had a lot of Pre-War motorcycles in it, still in damn near perfect condition. They really liked the ones called Harleys. So they named their daughter, my grandma after them. And I'm named after her."

He looked at me kindly, his smile touching his eyes again, "I think it's a nice name. If you're gonna go back out there, you should have one of these," He handed me a strange glove with a computer screen on it. It had three buttons, labeled "STATS", "ITEMS", and "DATA." There was a knob that clicked with whole way around and a dial that clicked up and down. "I grew up in one of them vaults they made before the war. Issued one of those to everyone. Ain't got much use for it now, but I don't know how you got along without one before."

I pulled my sleeve up and slipped the glove on. It locked into place and I felt a bit of pressure on my arm – like it had stabbed me with a needle, and the screen lit up a bright blue color. A little smiling man appeared on the screen, indicating that I was healthy. Apparently it couldn't sense the thumping in my head or the rolling of my stomach. I clicked through, and it actually kept track of my weapons and items? Holy shit.

I was almost speechless, a rare thing for me, "Thanks, Doc," I whispered.

"If you need help getting back on your feet, Sunny Smiles is your girl. She's probably down at the Prospector Saloon."

"Thanks again for all your help, Doc. See you around," I plopped the bag of caps on his table before briskly walking out. I didn't want him catching up and telling me to take them back.

"Not too soon now, you hear?" He called as I opened the door.

I nodded to myself, _Definitely. I don't plan on getting shot in the head again anytime soon._ The sunlight made me double over from the pain in my head, my eyes felt like they were close to bursting in my skull. Holy shit, I forgot how bright it was out here. The wind made little dust tornadoes swirl around my feet. Doc Mitchell said something about a robot? That's the only lead I got, other than asking this Johnson Nash guy mentioned in my delivery invoice. What's so important about a Platinum Chip that someone was willing to kill me for it?  
I'm gonna make sure I'm the last courier he ever fucks with.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Sunny Smiles in Goodsprings

_Sorry about the name change. I'm bad with titles and chapter names, but hopefully it stays as _Blue Moon_.  
_

* * *

I didn't have to look far before a very rusty robot on one wheel rolled up to me. I imagined he was very top-heavy. It had spring-like arms with claws for hands. A computer monitor flickered from a blank screen to the face of a cowboy, with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, a desperado hat on his head and a bandana around his neck. Frequently, the computer screen would flicker back and forth.

"Howdy pardner!" He drawled in a weird accent through the tin-sounding speakers, "My name's Victor. This is Goodsprings, a small little town with nice, quiet folk. I'm the one who dug ya outta yer grave! Real shame what that fancy-pants feller did. And for a silly poker chip!"

"Thanks. You're a real life saver." Robots really creeped me out. Maybe because we didn't have much interactions with them at home. Victor seemed nice enough, I mean…he _did_ dig me out of a shallow grave and get me to the Doc in time.

"No sweat, pardner. Just hope if something happens, you'll return the favor one day."

"Sure. How'd you find me?"

"Well, I was strollin' around at night, mindin' my own, when I heard some arguin' up on the cliff. Decided I'd lie low and when they finally left, I poked around a bit. Found you in your grave and you was still kickin', so I took you to Doc Mitchell right quick."

"Thank you again. You know anything about those men?"

"Nothin' much. I'm not sure why fancy-pants was hangin' around with some gangsters. They were after somethin' you had – that much was obvious. Sorry I can't be of more help."

I sigh and gave Victor a slight wave before heading towards the Prospector Saloon. Half the letters were missing, and only half that remained were lit up. Tumbleweeds passed by, and some old motorcycles were parked outside. Rusted to hell and back – I bet they were here since before the war. A few chairs were perched on the old dilapidated wooden porch. On one of those chairs sat an older man, with deeply tanned and wrinkled skin. Must've spent a lot of time out in the hot Nevada sun.

"Hey there, youngster. I've never seen you around here before." His voice was deep and caring. If I knew my grandfathers, he sounded like what I imagined they'd sound like.

"Oh, uh. Hi there! I was up at Doc Mitchell's. Got myself shot in the head," I pointed to the shaven spot.

"That's right. Heard all about you from Victor. Surprised you survived."

"Well, the guy was a crap shot, apparently. What is it you do around here?"

"Nothing much anymore. Used to be a prospector. Not much was in it, though. Now they just call me Easy Pete. Got some knowledge of dynamite, but I usually just sit here on this porch and watch the youngin's go about their lives."

Well…that's depressing. Sitting around all day, watching everyone else live their own lives? Not my style. That's why I picked up being a courier, I guess. Just wanted to see some action…but not the kind that would put a bullet in my brain.

"Find anything interesting?" I asked.

"Like I said, nothing much," he sighed, "I was supposed to be looking for working Pre-War tech."

"And you found nothing interesting at all?"

"Well…a few working computer parts. A running motor from a car. That's about as interesting as it got. You were a courier, right?" He sounded like her was trying to change the subject. Well, shit, I genuinely thought it was interesting.

"I still am, I guess. Courier Six as they know me right now at the Mojave Express."

"Sounds interesting enough. I assume you get to travel a lot?"

"Yep," I nodded, "From Utah. Been to Texas, California, Arizona and now Nevada. Was supposed to be going through Freeside to The Strip before I ended up at Doc Mitchell's.

"You're still a courier after that?"

"Well, I plan on finding the man who shot me. Maybe after that, I'll quit. Gotta get money home to my folks, you know?"

"I understand. Good luck, dear."

I nodded and headed into the saloon. It was dim, and took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. There were old-world posters of performers all over the walls, and the place smelled of alcohol and dust as soon as I opened the door. The old jukebox played Heartache by the Number, one of Mom's favorite songs. There was a girl with orange-red hair pulled back in a bun with her feet kicked up on the table. She was probably no older than 18, and yet she had an air of importance about her. There was a little varmint rifle strapped to the back of her leather and metal armor. Beside her, a mangy dog growled at me. She told it to stay, and it sat on it's haunches and whined.

"She won't bite. Not 'less I tell her to. The name's Sunny Smiles. You're the one who Doc Mitchell was patching up, right? Need some help getting back on your feet?" She asked.

"Uh yeah. I'm pretty good with a gun. I just need some work, if you have any."

"Yeah. You can help us clear out the water source. Damn geckos are attracted to it. Come on, Cheyenne," She called to the dog.

We set off down the road behind the small town, and down a trail until Sunny stopped behind a pile of large boulders.

"Hear them? They're up on the ledge. Show me that shotgun isn't for looks."

I stuck Romulus around the corner first, and then peeked around. There were three geckos trying to drink from the water. One was running around in circles, and the other two pawed at the water. I aimed down the sights and _boom! boom!_ The first two fell, and as I reloaded, the other looked around. _Boom!_ Romulus's deep booms echoed in the rocks that surrounded us; my ears ringing slightly.

"Well, you do seem well versed with guns," Sunny admitted, "There's one more source nearby. If you could help clear it, it would mean a lot."

I followed her down the path to the next one, where there were another three geckos. This time, I didn't get a chance to scope out my surroundings, as Cheyenne darted out from beside Sunny before either of us noticed she was gone. It took us both a second, but we figured out why. There was a woman, collecting water from the source, being violently attacked by all three geckos at one. Cheyenne grabbed one's leg in her mouth and started shaking it. I ran to the edge and was about to take one of them out, but Cheyenne and the woman were in the way of a clear shot.

"Sunny, call Cheyenne back!" I yelled, "I can't get a clean shot!"

She called for Cheyenne a few times, but she wasn't falling back. The woman had deep gashes running across her chest and a large chunk of skin taken out of her arm. I ran around the ledge and jumped down the smaller portion of the cliff, pushing the woman aside. With a deep, echoing boom noise, the gecko fell. I turned to get the other gecko, and noticed that Cheyenne had a deep gash on her face, running from her eye down to her snout. She was also bit in the stomach. My sights were aimed at the gecko, but it dropped before I could pull the trigger. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sunny running towards us, crying.

"Damn geckos! Now she won't be able to see outta her eye anymore! More trouble than they're worth…"

It seemed like Cheyenne didn't even notice, however, as she wagged her tail and barked happily. She seemed proud of herself that she saved someone's life. Patting Cheyenne's head, the woman thanked us and gave me a handful of caps and some bottled water. I dipped a finger in the blood of the gecko Cheyenne had killed and wiped it down her forehead, avoiding her cut eye. The woman and Sunny stared at me and I just shrugged my shoulders.

"You should see Doc Mitchell. He patched me up," I pointed to my head, "Do you need help?"

"I think I'll be okay to walk back up there. Thank you all so much."

"Here's your payment," Sunny said, handing me 50 caps, "When you get some time, make sure you stop down the Prospector Saloon and say hi to Trudy. She's the town mom. Come on, Cheyenne, let's go get you fixed up."

I made a mental note and checked my Pip-Boy – it was only 3:47 pm. Nothing better to do than lull around and go meet this town mom character. See if she had any work for me, maybe. I appreciate what Sunny had given me, but I needed more than fifty caps. Before leaving, I gulped down the two bottles of water the woman had given me, and refilled them before putting them in my bag. The coffee Doc Mitchell gave me seemed to just make me thirstier – although I do appreciate what he did, too. I shifted my duffle bag on my shoulder and headed back up to Goodsprings.

Easy Pete threw me another "hello" as I walked into the bar. There was a black man in a blue outfit with the letters "NCRCF" on the back, arguing with who I guessed to be Trudy. He sounded like he was threatening her, so I sat back at the bar and "fiddled" with my Pip-Boy (read as, eavesdropping while trying to look like I wasn't eavesdropping.) This thing has a radio? That would just alert people to me even though that is a pretty damn cool feature. They're arguing about a man named Ringo… Oh cool, this thing can sense when people are near.

"Hand him over! We know you have him!" The man shoved an accusatory finger at Trudy.

"Get your finger outta my face," she snapped, "and I have no idea who you're talking about. Now, if you ain't gonna buy anything, get out."

"You know exactly who I'm talking about, and you have until tonight to hand him over, or I'll burn this Podunk town to the fuckin' ground." As he passed by me, he threw a "the fuck you lookin' at?" in my direction.

He ran off, and Trudy came behind the counter, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Feeling thirsty?" she put on a smile.

"Just a water. Who was that man you were arguing with?"

"His name's Joe Cobb. Part of some gang of escaped cons from the NCR Correctional Facility. A man named Ringo came to us a few days ago. He said he needed a place to stay. Bad men after him, needs to lie low. He just seemed shook up. Didn't actually think anyone would come after him, so we let him hide out in our abandoned gas station up by Doc Mitchell's."

"Why not just take Cobb out?"

"You mean like murder? That's not our style. I personally hope Ringo sneaks out one night and takes the Powder Gangers with him."

"Powder Gangers?" I gulped my water down full force.

"Yeah, that's what they call themselves. The escaped cons."

I nodded, "Well, he said you have until tonight…"

"I know. I don't know what to do."

"So are you gonna hand him over?" I asked.

She looked appalled, "Of course not!"

"Looks like it's either fight or hand him to the wolves, sister."

She sighed, "I'm not sure how we got ourselves dragged into this."

"I'll go talk to him," I said, throwing caps down on the table and pocketing the empty bottle, "you said he's in the abandoned gas station?"

She nodded.

"Do you know anything about the guy that shot me?"

"Just the same as everyone else," She sighed, "Fancy suit, two men with him. Was after something you had. Don't know why he had to shoot you for it, though. Victor's the…one…who dug you outta your grave. He might know more than I."

I noticed how she said Victor's name with disdain. Maybe she doesn't like robots, too. "Yeah, already talked to him." Damn it, still at square one.

"Wait. I know something that may be of use. I overhead them saying they came from Quarry Junction. Said they needed another route to Vegas. Sounded like they were avoiding that section of the I-15 like it was radioactive. Which it could be, for all I know. If they wanna get to the Strip, but avoid I-15, they'd have to go east and take Highway 95 up."

I thought about it for a second. Quarry Junction is where all the Deathclaws are from, right? I've never seen one, but I've heard stories; taller than a full grown man with arms longer than they are tall and giant claws that would slice a man in half. No thank you, I'm avoiding that shit, too.

"If you can get Ringo outta this mess, I'll give you a discount," Trudy said.

I started to get up, but I noticed a patron ogling the side of my head. I was going to say something, but I walked away instead. Wasn't sure whether to be proud I survived, or embarrassed of this huge nasty soon-to-be scar. I waved to Sunny, who sat there looking nervous. Cheyenne must've been with Doc Mitchell.

"Hey," I knocked on the door, "I'm not one of Cobb's crew obviously. Don't think they like women. I'm here to sort things out. Don't shoot, okay?" I pushed the door open, but despite my efforts, there was still a gun in my face. I sighed, "Dude, seriously. I just said I was here to help. Get your gun the fuck outta my face."

"How do I know you're not one of them?"

I sighed again, and he looked me up and down before shrugging and lowering his gun.

"Cobb said he's attacking tonight. We need a plan, and fast," I warned.

"Even if we beat them back, the rest of them will probably just come after this town anyways."

"I don't think they care about the town, they just want you. If you show them you can knock a few heads together, maybe they'll back the fuck off."

"Sunny would probably help if we asked. But I feel bad…they've already given me a place to lie low, I shouldn't drag them into my fight, too. I should just leave in the middle of the night."

"Too late. They're attacking at sundown. I'll go ask Sunny for help."

"Okay. Come back as soon as you hear anything."

At first, with Cheyenne being at Doc Mitchell's, I thought it would be hard to convince Sunny. I barely got five words out of my mouth, and she agreed. She told me to enlist the help of Easy Pete and his dynamite, see if the General Store owner, Chet, had any extra ammo and armor, try to get Doc Mitchell to give us some stims, and enlist Trudy's help. If I could get her to help, I had the rest of the town in our pockets.

Trudy wasn't difficult. She said she hoped it wouldn't come to bite them in the asses later. I told her if it does, I'd help them out (although I probably wouldn't be anywhere near here anymore.) Easy Pete was tough as nails. Didn't want in the fight and didn't want to hand his dynamite over to someone who's unskilled. Which he's right, so I can't be too angry with him. I don't handle dynamite or explosives, so I'd probably just blow myself up. Try as I might, his decision was set in stone.

Chet was difficult, but not nearly so much so as Easy Pete – "You expect me to just give away armor and ammo? Those come with a price!"

"Yes, but think of how little you'll sell _if everyone in town is dead_ and can't buy your supplies."

He pondered for a few minutes, "I guess you're right. I can spare three leather armors, a case of 9mm, and your shotgun there takes 20ga, I'm suspecting?"

"His name is Romulus, and you are quite right," I said as I held my duffle bag open for him to dump the supplies in.

"You'd better win this."

"I've played with death a few times," I said as I left.

All that was left was Doc Mitchell. He briefed me on Cheyenne, who's eye was damaged beyond repair and needed to be removed, but was otherwise healthy. I asked him about medical supplies. He handed over a few stimpacks and doctor's bags.

"Everywhere I go, it's always the same," He sighed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: You and What Army?

_I am currently writing chapter 23 on my phone. Getting them from my phone to my computer and then re-doing indents and fonts and all that good stuff takes a few minutes. Not to mention reading it over to look for spelling and grammar mistakes. If anyone likes it, let me know! This story has consumed my life as of late, haha._

* * *

Sunny was already wearing leather armor, as was I, so I gave one to Trudy, one to Ringo and another to a random townsperson. I divided the stimpacks and doctor's bags among Sunny, Ringo, and I and quickly told her how Cheyenne was.

We all met at the Prospector Saloon. I decided to brief everyone on what to do – "find cover. That's your first thing. They aren't likely to get a clear shot if you're behind something. Stick your gun out _first_. They'll shoot at the first thing they see. Rather your gun than your face. Trust me. I've also been told they use dynamite. If a stick of that shit comes flying at you, _tactfully_ get the hell outta there. Don't run out in the open. Stay crouched, run along the sides of buildings, but never out in the open. Dynamite, other than for blowing stuff up, is also meant for drawing things out. Such as you...when they throw said stick of blasting powder at you and you run from your cover. Bullets are expensive, so hopefully you have good aim and enough ammo. I got a case of 9mm off Chet, but that's all he could spare. If you run out of ammo, _stay put_. Don't try to run for shelter. If you're using cover, you should be good. Chances are, they'll use cover too, and won't leave it to come find you to shoot you. It's super simple. Follow my lead. Everyone take cover and we'll wait for them to come. Probably as a group, on the road. Keep a look out."

And with that, we all left the saloon. Trudy took the left side of the saloon for cover, I took a large boulder in front of the saloon, and Sunny and Ringo took a cart halfway between the General Store and saloon. The other townsfolk either gathered near Trudy or in between buildings.

Just as I had suspected, the Powder Gangers came into town using the main road, all in a group. Stupidest thing I've ever seen. From out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone light a stick of dynamite.

"Eat shit, Powder Gangers!" He yelled as he threw the stick. It landed right in the middle of their group, and they began running about. There was a shower of blood and limbs. Two out of the six of them were dead. The ones furthest from the blast had some pretty deep gashes. Two men took refuge behind an old telephone pole, Joe Cobb hid behind the saloon sign and one guy with a baseball bat charged towards the center of town, still on the road. I poked Romulus out from behind my rock. No gunshot, so I poked my head out far enough to aim down the sights. With an echoing blast, I shot the Powder Ganger in the chest. His baseball bat fell out of his hands as he flew back and he was dead before he hit the ground.

Trudy poked her head around the corner, and there was a shot fired. Not from her, but from Joe Cobb. I immediately saw the blood that streaked her cheek. From what I could tell, he shot the side of the building and she was hit with splinters.

"Gun first, Trudy!" I yelled as she ducked back in for cover.

Sunny followed my advice, and before she could aim down the sights, I counted four gunshots from the Powder Gangers. I took that time to aim at Joe Cobb, and pulled the trigger.

But I missed. He moved out of the way just in time. Out of the corner of my eye, however, I noticed that Ringo had also taken that time to shoot at one of the guys behind the telephone post. He caught him in the arm and he dropped his weapon. Sunny took the shot as he bent down to retrieve it, and got him right in the neck.

I heard the hissing sound of dynamite, but it wasn't coming from us. I saw the stick flying over my head and watched and it landed near Ringo and Sunny. Ringo had completely forgot what I told him and started running in the street. Sunny kept low and was able to get over to the Prospector Saloon before the blast showered us with gravel and dirt. I heard a gunshot, followed by a yelp and another shot. I looked in Ringo's direction and saw he was clipped in the shoulder. I could only assume the second shot came from Ringo. I poked my gun out, and nothing. I aimed down the sights and saw that Ringo had injured Joe Cobb. I took the shot, and yet again, missed. I instead hit one of the posts the sign was held up by.

The guy that had lit the dynamite earlier was now getting ready for round two, and I watched the dynamite soar above me, and while everyone was distracted, I looked down the sights to see that the guy behind the telephone pole was making a break for it. I aimed and shot him right through the back of the head. Joe Cobb looked around and saw that he was the last man standing. The dynamite went off, raining dirt down on Cobb, but it wasn't close enough to injure him. At that point in time, Trudy, Sunny, Ringo and I had all taken advantage of the moment to gun him down. One shot ricocheted off the sign, another hit Cobb in the foot and two bullets found their way to his lower back.

I motioned for everyone to stay in place as I looked around to make sure there was no one else in hiding. I kept Romulus at the ready as I checked around the sign. Cobb was still alive, his legs twisted in ways that didn't look possible. Blood was dribbling out of the corner of his mouth, and he brought up the energy to spit at me.

"This town belongs to the Powder Gangers."

"Are you paralyzed?" I asked, "can you move your legs?" I doubted he could, but I was having too much of a power trip, standing over him, so helpless and defenseless. I could kill him now with a twitch of my trigger finger, but what fun would that be? I could see him trying to muster the strength to hold his gun up to me, but I kicked it out of his reach.

"I'm just gonna assume you're paralyzed. Being shot in the spine like that...twice, you're lucky to be alive," I looked down at him and he was struggling to sit up.

"You're...you're a bitch. I won't die by your hand. I'll kill myself first."

I balled my hand into a fist and plummeted it straight to his nose. I heard a few townsfolk gasp. We just killed all those people and me punching someone was more offensive?

"You wanna take care of him, Ringo?" I asked. This was, after all, Ringo's problem. I offered to help out because six Powder Gangers is too much for one guy to take on alone. It's down to one, now crippled and bloodied man and if Ringo couldn't take him down, what could he do?

Ringo walked up, shaking in his boots. Joe Cobb started blathering on as I prompted him to pull up his weapon, aim down the sights and hit Cobb clean in the head. But the way he was shaking, I could tell he was going to miss. So I pulled out my 9mm and it made a quiet popping noise compared to Romulus. It was done. I dipped my finger in Cobb's blood and smeared it across Ringo's face. He looked mortified. I gave him a stern nod, and without looking at anybody else or saying anything, I went and sat in the bar. Trudy served me up a shot of whiskey and sat down beside me. Everything was quiet for a while before I asked Trudy if there was any more help the town needed. Sunny and Ringo came and sat down with us after a while. Ringo's arm was in a sling made from an old ripped up shirt.

"I don't think there's anything else that needs to be done," Trudy admitted.

"Here, these are yours," Ringo said, plopping a bag of bottlecaps in front of me, "they're Crimson Caravan funds. They're not technically mine to give away, but I think they'll understand." I noticed he still had the blood smeared on his cheek. Maybe Doc Mitchell told everyone I was a tribesperson and I was crazy, so everyone just let it be. I sighed.

"Look, Ringo, you can give me money when you have-"

"No, it's fine," he said.

I shrugged. 250 bottlecaps is fine for me. More than what I had before, anyways.

"So are there any other towns close by that I can ask around about my attackers?" I asked.

"There's Primm," Sunny said and I remembered it was mentioned in my invoice, "it's a bit south east. You'll notice it when you come across a large rollercoaster. I believe there's a Mojave Express there."

"Great. That's just where I need to be. Thank you for all the help you've given me." I slung my duffle bag across my chest and made sure I had Romulus with me. Everything seemed to be in order, so I waved goodbye as I set off.

"Look me up at the Crimson Caravan," Ringo called out, "I'll give you the rest of what I owe you there."

And with that, I set off, pulling the map up on my Pip-boy, and following the route Sunny marked for me. I went back down the trail that led to the Goodsprings Source, filled up my water bottles and checked the dead geckos. They seemed fine, so I took some meat from them, recalling there was a campfire at the bottom of the ridge that I could cook these on. I put them in the one plastic bag I had stored in my duffle bag, and continued down the path.

There were two different sets of cinder blocks with wood piled on top of them, and not far off, I noticed a Pre-war vehicle. I read in a book somewhere that people used them to go camping, which is like living in the outdoors for a few days and living off the land instead of sitting in those nice, cushy Pre-War houses. My life is basically one big camping trip, I mused to myself. I don't know why someone would want to do this if they had a big cushy house to go to that wasn't missing a ceiling or doors and windows.

I set up my gecko meat to cook on the fire closest to the vehicle, and set off to check it out. There was no door, and the tires had been taken off by someone, as it was now sitting on more cinder blocks. Inside, there were two mattresses, a case with ammo that neither my 9mm nor Romulus could use, and a suitcase with a pretty dress and hat in it. Some empty Nuka-Cola bottles littered the floor, and other than the rust, the place was surprisingly clean for being left out in the open since before the war.

I checked my Pip-boy, it was a little after 10pm. I felt the presence of someone near, and while fiddling with my Pip-boy earlier, I found it tracked anything living within so far. I'm not entirely sure how it worked, but it did, in fact, work. I glanced at it in the bar with Trudy and it showed one tick mark close to me, as she was the only one in the bar. When Ringo and Sunny walked in, it then displayed two more tick marks.

But despite the feeling of someone being near, there were no tick marks appearing. I went back to check on my meat, flipping it over using the cleaver I kept with me. Letting out a loud sigh, I sat with my back towards the ridge, facing the camper. I played with my Pip-boy some more, switching between the local map, and the Nevada map, both of which showed the path Sunny marked for me. Most of the time, it followed a road, and critters normally stray from the road, so that would save me some trouble.

I heard a rock skidding along the dirt, and looked around. I didn't see anything, but I got that feeling I was being watched again. I had Romulus at the ready, and even with the fire lighting up the night, the sky was still inky black and I couldn't see much further out than a few feet. I checked my Pip-boy again, and there was a blue tick mark lingering a bit to the west, which was off to my right. Supposedly the blue was friendly and the red was hostile, but I wasn't taking any chances.

"I know you're there!" I called out.

Suddenly, a man came running out of nowhere, yelling frantically about his girlfriend being stuck up on a hill surrounded by geckos. I raised an eyebrow, set my cooked meat on a part of wood that wasn't on fire, began chopping it into small pieces and eating it.

"Didn't you hear me?!" He yelled, "my girlfriend's surrounded by geckos."

I nodded, "I heard ya. But chances are, by the time you ran down here, she was already dead. Rescued a lady from geckos earlier. They fucked her up pretty bad before I got to her."

I chewed slowly, though the meat had been over cooked, and it had a rubbery feeling to it. It had a bland taste, but I had no room to complain. At least I was eating.

"So you're not gonna help her?" He asked.

"Nope. You obviously left her for dead. Why should I help her?"

He sighed, "I knew this wouldn't work. Cough up that duffle bag."

He had pulled a gun out from behind him and held it up to me. I stared at him for a minute, before standing up and raising my hands.

"My gun is in my duffle bag. I'm unarmed," I said, my blood rushing in my ears again. It was not only because of the gun in my face, but because I kept my 9mm in my back belt loop. I'd have to be fast to do it without him noticing. The blood rushing in my ears caused an unparalleled pain in my head, making my vision go from blurry to normal with every thump.

He kept his gun pointed at me as he circled the fire and came towards my duffle bag. I made sure to keep face-to-face with him as he was eventually standing beside me. He kneeled down, setting the gun beside him and started looking through my bag. I'd have to act fast, or he'd be re-armed with Romulus.

I put my boot to his chest and kicked him back. He seemed surprised, but he didn't let that slow him down. Lunging forward, he was able to get his fingers maybe an inch away from Romulus. I stomped on his hand, hearing a cracking noise. I pounced on him, pushing him back and sitting on his chest, my legs pinning his arms down.

"Thought you'd get the jump on me?" I asked, pulling my 9mm out of my belt loop.

He struggled and fought, bucking me around. For the most part, I am all skin and bones. I'm not sure how I held him down for so long, as he finally jerked around underneath me hard enough that I flew off of him, slamming my head off the ground. After a flash of white-hot pain, everything went black.

I woke up with a jolt, suddenly freezing and remembering the man that was trying to kill me. I looked down and saw the reason for me freezing. I was in nothing. Butt ass naked. Other than the fact that it gets freezing-ass-cold out in the desert in the middle of the night.

I heard the click of a hammer being pulled back and I looked in that direction. He had my own 9mm pointed straight at my face.

"I'm not sore, so you either didn't rape me or you just aren't packing," I said.

He laughed, "you've sure got a mouth for someone with a gun in her face. The answer is no, I didn't rape you. I wanted you to be awake. To experience it."

I shrugged, "fair enough. I just wanna let you know, I haven't bad sex in quite a while."

He gave me a questioning look. Despite the fact that he had a gun in my face, he was attractive. He had messy brown hair, green eyes and stubble on his chin. Even if he wasn't "forcing me" to have sex with him, I probably would've anyway. Traveling like I do, I never keep relationships. I usually just find someone willing enough to have sex with me and leave them. Call it as you will.

"All I'm saying is how do you know it's gonna be rape? How do you know I'm not willing in the first place?" I asked.

He looked stunned. He went through all this work, and now I was telling him you can't rape the willing.

"You serious?" He asked.

I gave him the sexiest smile I could muster before planting a kiss on his lips.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Primm and Proper

My "partner" was asleep before his head hit the mattress. I quietly got up and began looking through my bag. My Pip-boy was still on my wrist and I held down a small button on the side to turn on the flashlight. It was bright, and reflected off the metal of the vehicle, but the guy on the mattress was still asleep. From inside my bag, I pulled the 9mm from my bag and aimed it at his head.

With a soft popping noise, the man was dead. I know if I didn't get around to it first, he would've done the same to me. I applied a line of his blood across my cheek and checked through his pockets. I found 5.56 bullets, along with a meager 12 caps, and this one strange blue cap with a white star on it. He had some pills labeled "Rad-X" in a small blue bottle. I threw those and the caps in my bag and got dressed.

I dragged the body out of the vehicle and laid him in front of it. I took the bloody mattress and set it up against the door. It was a little bigger than the door frame, so I shoved it in as good as I could and laid the empty Nuka-Cola bottles on top. If the mattress fell over, the bottles would smash and (hopefully) wake me up.

I checked my Pip-boy, and it was almost midnight. I laid back down and drifted into a fitful sleep, Romulus always at my fingertips.

I woke up when the sun was violently filtering through the broken glass that used to be a window. It took my eyes a moment to adjust, they were still fuzzy and my head still careened. I grabbed my duffle bag and double checked for anything I might be forgetting. I remembered that he was trying to get me to go up the hill on the other side of the source, and I was much too curious to not check it out.

On the way out, I glanced over at the body and noticed there were large chunks of flesh missing, and his arm was almost ripped off. There was something around that was hungry. Since we were so close to the source, my guess was that more geckos were moving in.

I had turned out to be correct. As I approached the hill, Romulus in hand, I noticed three geckos before they noticed me. I aimed down the sights and was able to take two out before reloading. The third one turned towards me and began running. For having such short, stubby legs, it ran pretty fast. I aimed, but couldn't keep a steady sight on him. I fired two shots and after the second, I noticed he slowed down. I took advantage of that time to reload and pop off another two shots. It was dead before it hit the ground.

There wasn't much up on the cliff. A dead man, with a few caps on him. Had to tip-toe around a few bear traps. There was a fridge, why the hell it was on the cliff, I have no idea. It obviously wasn't keeping anything cold, but there were a couple of Sunset Sarsaparilla bottles sitting in the door, and some rotten looking meat on the shelf. I took the bottles and put them in my bag. The footlocker nearby had a few rounds that I couldn't even use, and a couple more caps. So much for his "treasure." I sighed and headed back down the ridge and towards Primm.

I followed the road most of the way there and didn't bother to do much sightseeing Not that there was that much to even see – the Mojave is a flat, boring, irradiated desert. In the distance I saw the roller coaster Sunny told me about. The town was mostly fenced off, but there was a road in, blocked by troopers carrying guns. I sighed, I knew this was going to take some convincing. Mama always said I had a silver tongue, though, so hopefully I can get these army boys to listen to me. He was wearing brown armor with NCR written across his left breast plate, and an armor bandolier strapped across the middle of his chest. In his hands, he held a service rifle, and the butt of the gun was held together with duct tape.

Sure enough, I was stopped by the first one standing watch, "You have business in Primm?"

"I'm a courier, and I heard the nearest Mojave Express was in Primm," I replied.

"Well, not to put you in bad spirits, kid, but the place has been overrun with Powder Gangers. Apparently, the NCRCF up north was taken over by the prisoners."

"I can handle myself if anything happens. I just need to get in and get right back out."

"Well, I warned you. It's your ass if anything happens."

I mock-saluted to him and headed into Primm. The road was dotted with tents decked out with metal doors and troopers walking around with their service rifles at the ready. Most of them nodded towards me, a couple addressed me as "ma'am." The bridge that connected this road to Primm had a look out in a shack made of discarded metal, and a few mines placed here and there. My small frame made me agile enough to skip around the mines. I looked at my Pip-boy and all of the ticks appeared blue. So far, no enemies. I headed into town and the town was completely empty. There were a few bodies in the street, but living people? Not a blip on my Pip-boy.

To my left there was the Mojave Express and another dead body outside. The closer I came, the more apparent it had been that the body was a courier like myself. He was wearing a long sleeve brown shirt, a bandana around his neck, jeans and he had a bag that said "Mojave Express" slung over his chest, exactly like the ones we were all issued to carry. Which I just remembered I didn't have anymore.

I got down on one knee and searched through his pockets. Nothing. He was slumped over, and there was a gunshot wound right between his eyes. They were still open and stared vacantly at me. I looked away and started going through his bag. The only thing in there was a letter labeled "Courier Four." The contents of his note were exactly the same as mine, except he was issued to carry two oversized fuzzy dice. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to figure out what it all meant. There were six of us hired altogether. I was carrying an oversized platinum chip, and he was carrying oversized fuzzy die. Someone tried to kill me, and someone obviously succeeded with him. The lack of caps on him made me question whether or not someone stole his package, too.

I shook my head and made my way into the Mojave Express. It was completely empty. There was still food on plates at the table, though it looked moldy now. On the counter, there was an old-world comic book and a broken robot. I took a look at it, but I didn't know much about robots or repairing them, so I just shrugged. I called out a hello, even though I knew I was the only person in there. I exited the building and decided to check out the Vicki and Vance across the street. My entrance was most welcome, with a barrel of a gun pointed right between my eyes.

I held my hands up in the air, "whoa, I'm not here to hurt anyone. I'm a courier and I was looking for whoever ran the Mojave Express. There's no one there."

"That would be me," the man behind the gun said. Just like Easy Pete, his skin looked like leather. He was a dark brown color, and his skin was wrinkled to hell and back. He had a buzzed head, and bags under his eyes the size of my duffle bag, "the town's gone to hell. What do you need here, youngster?" He brought a cigarette to his lips.

"What can you tell me about these deliveries?" I asked, handing him both mine and Courier Four's orders while waving smoke away from my face.

"Oh, these," he rubbed his forehead, "these deliveries has 'strange' written all over them, but we just couldn't turn down the caps."

"Strange?"

"Yeah. There were six of you and you each had to carry something similar. An oversized chess piece, fuzzy die, your chip..."

"I was shot in the head for that platinum chip," I pointed towards the stitches that were starting to fall out on their own, "and I heard the men that took it from me came through here. Do you know anything?"

"Not much. I saw a feller in a fancy daisy-suit come through here with some Great Khan misfits a couple of days ago talking about a platinum chip. Our Deputy might know more about those men. But there's one catch."

"Of course there is," I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"He was captured by a group of escaped convicts and is being kept in the Bison Steve hotel. If you want any information, you'll need to get it from him."

"Oh Jesus Christ. Okay. I'll go get your deputy."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: But I Did Not Shoot the Deputy

I opened the door to the old hotel as quietly as I could, but it made a terrible screeching on it's hinges. It took my eyes a few minutes to adjust, as there was very little light in the room. I was in what I expected was the lobby. From the looks of it, the convicts had taken some tables from probably a dining area to make cover. To my right there was an old elongated desk with a door that used to swing both ways. Now, it was just broken off of one hinge and hung down. On the desk was a computer whose screen was actually lit up. The terminal was locked, however and I couldn't get any useless information off of it. Pah, computers.

My Pip-boy indicated there were two hostels around the corner, but they weren't moving. I crouched down and moved as slowly and quietly as I could.

"Did you hear something?" I heard the one ask, and suddenly, the two red ticks on my Pip-boy were rounding the corner.

I was never good at keeping quiet, so of course, when I pulled Romulus out of the holster strapped to my back, my elbow bumped something off the desk and knocked it on the floor with a loud bang. I didn't necessarily curse below my breath, either.

"I think I see something!" The one called out, and I could just make him out in the dim light of the hallway. I pulled Romulus up and popped off a shot that sent him flying backwards into the wall. I didn't aim clearly, so I wasn't sure where I hit him.

The other red blip came out to inspect the body. While his back was turned, I aimed and hit him right in the head. He landed on top of the other convict with a wet thump. I checked my Pip-boy, and for now, there weren't any more red ticks. Must've hit the first guy in something vital, 'cause he wasn't trying to move at all. I reloaded and checked both convicts, and the only thing of value on them was a handful of caps. I spread a line of blood from each convict across my cheek, and ducked in and out of rooms and darkness in the main hallway, until more red ticks and a single blue tick appeared on my Pip-boy. The blue must be my deputy.

There were a huddle of four hostels in the next room and I kept low right outside the door frame and tried to work out a plan in my head. At that moment, a convict had walked right past me. While his back was turned, I slammed the butt of my gun against the back of his head as hard as I could. Before he could land, I caught him and set him down gently. I decided quiet was the way to go, and picking them off one by one couldn't be too hard if they were stupid enough to not notice me in the first place.

I dug the cleaver into his skull as hard and far as I could, and his body gave a small twitch. I searched his pockets. He had a handful of 9mm bullets on him, a couple of sticks of dynamite and four whole caps. Another line on my cheek. I shrugged and stuck them in a pocket on my side. Again, I wasn't good at using explosives, but it would probably be disorienting to have a stick thrown at you from out of nowhere, which was my next plan of action.

With a match, I lit a stick and whipped it around the corner at the two red ticks standing together. The one yelled "dynamite!" But they didn't get very far before I heard blood splatter the floor. There were only two more hostels left, so the dynamite took at least one down. I stuck Romulus around the corner, and someone shouted "there's someone there!" I quickly aimed and popped off a shot at a guy missing half of the skin on his face and chest and his entire right arm. He went down with a sickening crunching noise, and what happened next I didn't expect.

The only motherfucker left in the whole area came running at me, screaming. Okay, that's no big deal. The "big deal" was what he was carrying in his hands, and was strapped on his back.

A flamer.

Well, fuck. I lit my last dynamite as I was running away from him. I carelessly chucked it behind me. Hopefully that flamer was heavy enough that it slowed him down. I felt an insane amount of heat coming from behind me, almost like it was melting my leather armor to my skin. I could feel the sweat pouring off my back. The dynamite went off seconds later, and I heard a frantic screaming. I didn't look back at what was happening, but instead, looped around from the hallway, into the dining area that all the convicts were in, and then back into the hallway. The guy with the flamer was lying on the floor, clutching his bloody stump of a leg. I went to aim Romulus at him, but he brought the flamer up at the same time. His finger wasn't on the trigger for long before he hit the ground, but it was still enough to completely seer my arm. It was charred. I screamed, grasping my arm to my chest. I've been burned before, and it has never felt like this. I checked the burnt area, and the long sleeve white shirt I had on under my leather vest was now missing most of the arm. I torn the rest away, and there were chunks of it burnt to my arm. I peeled away what I could, and looked grimly at it. The back of my hand, and most of my forearm was red with bits of black and already-appearing blisters. On top of that, my persistent headache came back, making it even more difficult to focus on the task at hand. I dug around in my duffle bag and pulled out a stimpack. I eyed it up; it was a long syringe full of reddish-clear liquid. The needle on it was long and thick and quite frankly, scared the shit out of me. I closed my eyes and dug it deep in the middle of my forearm and injected the liquid. It burned, but it wasn't bad compared to my arm getting seared to hell and back. After a minute or so, the pain died down considerably and the charred bits of skin on my arm started flaking off. The pounding in my head got softer, but was still there. I didn't even wanna think about the harm a stimpack did in the long run, so I pushed it out of my mind, adding a streak of blood to my other cheek, and doing the same for the two convicts in the dining area. Altogether, they had 28 caps, a pack of cigarettes, which I planned of giving to Mr. Nash, a dose of Med-X, and a stimpack.

I headed through a doorway to the kitchen area, which held a bar-like table and a couple of refrigerators. Behind the table, was the deputy, tied up and kneeling down. I pulled up a chair and smiled at him.

"Oh, it must be my knight in shining armor!" He said, with fake enthusiasm, "...with streaks of blood on your face?"

"My kills for the day," I shrugged it off, "I hear you have some information I'd like. About a man in a checkered suit."

"Well, I'll be glad to give it to you when you free me."

I shook my head, "that's not how it works. You tell me everything I wanna hear, and then you're a free man."

"I'm sorry, my memories a bit foggy due to my bondage."

This guy is just plain annoying. "Well," I said, getting up, "I suppose I can just leave you to rot in here. I'll let the town know the convicts got the better of the deputy."

"My good lady, I do believe I have information for you."

"Excellent," I sat back down and crossed my legs.

"I was performing some recon one night on the Powder Gangers here in town, when your friend, Benny, in the fancy suit came by with a couple of Great Khan misfits. They were arguing about heading to Novac through Nipton."

A name to a face, "Benny?"

"Yeah. At least that's what they called him."

"Good. Thanks. I'll let you go, I suppose."

I cut him free and he ran out before I could even say a "goodbye." Which I didn't plan on, but he was one shady motherfucker. Maybe he was just scared. Either way, I didn't trust him. I met up with him outside, and that's when he informed me that I should bring law back to Primm. I honestly didn't give two fucks, but I convinced him to pay me for my troubles. 300 caps up front, too. Someone must be scared. He informed me that I could either get the NCR to take over the town, or there was an old sheriff that was locked up in the NCRCF and with any luck, he'd still be there.

I tossed the decision over in my head. On one hand, I probably couldn't get into the NCRCF without being gunned down by every Powder Ganger within 100 yards on account of what I did to Joe Cobb's crew. On the other hand, there was a corruption about the NCR. Not the troopers. I liked a man or woman who loved something so much, they'd put their lives on the line for it. It was higher up. Not the president of the NCR, but the people beneath him. And the NCR is all about that old world democracy. I've read about it a few times in books I've found along my travels. It's "for the people, by the people." Voting to put shit into act, freedom of religion, speech, blah blah blah, taxing just about everything, fair trials, prisons, and such. And most people in the wasteland were so damn used to doing what they wanted, that having to answer to someone when you shot somebody else just seemed ridiculous.

I walked into the Vicki and Vance and yelled out to everyone. For the most part, people seemed confused and they sort of waved me off. Mr. and Mrs. Nash had my back, though, and Johnson made a loud whistling noise and motioned for them all to come towards me. I handed him the pack of cigarettes and smiled at him. I kind liked him and his boldness, and his wife was an absolute sweetheart, offering to make me food and telling me that if she couldn't say anything nice, she was going to keep it to herself.

"I'm taking a vote," I said, scanning over the people in the crowd. There were the Nashes, deputy Beagle, and around 20 townsfolk, "I've decided I'm gonna help bring law back to Primm. I don't live here, so it doesn't matter to me, but I figured you might wanna take part in it. On one hand, we've got the NCR. They'll make you all NCR citizens, tax shit, and give you a considerable amount of protection. On the other hand, there's an old sheriff who was incarcerated up at the NCRCF. He'll probably deal with the law his own way, but at least he won't tax you or make you citizens of something you don't wanna be a part of."

Johnson Nash came up and stood beside me, "everyone in favor of the NCR taking over the town, raise your hand."

Both of the Nashes and eleven townsfolk out of nineteen raised their hands. That left eight plus Beagle for the sheriff.

"You heard her!" One guy in the back who didn't raise his hand shouted, "the NCR will tax us! Make us answer to them and follow their old-world laws!"

"Yeah, that may be true," Johnson said, "but they'll offer more protection than just one guy. And who knows what this convict has done in his life time? Maybe he's a mass-murderer. And if he is, and this little lady right here leaves us, who's gonna save us all? Beagle?" He let out a laugh and Beagle stared at the ground, "I'm just saying. Paying a little bit of tax for a lot of protection doesn't seem bad."

"Their democracy is what started the Great War..." The guy whispered.

I'll admit, that is pretty much what got us here, from what I've read. And my "taking a vote" might've had something to do with swaying their opinion towards the NCR. Maybe not. Maybe I'm over thinking things. With my run-ins with the NCR though, I'd feel safer with a convict. They're usually more outright about the shit they're gonna do to do. I shivered and pushed the old memories into the back of my brain.

I walked over to the tents that were set up at the entrance to Primm, and knocked on the metal door to the first one I came across.

"I'm Lieutenant Hayes of the NCR army, first battalion, fifth company. And what do I owe the pleasure, ma'am?" He extended a hand towards me.

I shook his hand and opened my mouth to speak, but an old ham radio in the background caught my attention; "...a package courier near Goodsprings found shot in the head has made a full recovery. Now that's a delivery service you can count on!" The voice said. I looked from the radio, to Hayes, and back to the radio. I was unaware, up until now, that my recovery was that big of a deal.

Hayes must've caught on, "are you the courier Mr. New Vegas keeps talking about?" I could feel his eyes peek over my head wound.

"I am. But that's not important right now. Primm needs law. The majority decided they want the NCR looking after the town."

He shook his head, "I'd love to. Primm is a great strategic point, but we cannot spare the troops. Brass has ordered us to strictly watch for convicts and nothing more."

"Well, you don't have to worry about them for a while. Took care if the ones in the city, at least."

"That was noble of you, but orders are orders. Unless you wanna go down to the Mojave Outpost and see if you can get our orders changed, now that the convicts are taken care of so far. We'll most likely need another squad sent out here. I can mark the coordinates on your Pip-boy."

From the looks of it, it was gonna be at least a day's walk. I decided I'd buy some supplies from the Nashes and see if there wasn't a place I could sleep for tonight.

Three bottles of water, a doctor's bag, a broc flower, a xander root, a pear fruit, and two stimpacks later, I convinced the Nashes to let me crash at their place. Everyone was still too jumpy to leave the Vicki and Vance, and I wasn't sleeping on the floor.

On their stove, I poured a bit of clean water in a pot. I squished down the xander root as good as I could and put it in the water. I let it boil down, and it basically becomes mush. I added a very finely ripped up broc flower, and let it simmer. I stirred the ingredients and at the end, I squirted in the juice from the pear.

I let it sit for a bit, popping the rest of the pear fruit in my mouth. After it cools down, it becomes a sticky, smelly salve. The pear fruit doesn't have any healing properties, I just put it in to make it smell better. You can also make it into a powder, but the salve is better for the burn.

Even though it was still warm to the touch, it felt cool being applied to my arm. Most of the black bits had fallen off, but it was still extremely painful to the touch. I sighed as the salve made the pain die down.

I chucked the stuff I bought from the Nashes into my duffle bag, secured a blockade in front of the doors and fell asleep almost before I hit the mattress.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Whiskey Rose

The first part below this line is very rated M. Just a head's up.

* * *

_I was lying in a dark room on a comfortable feathery bed, some light filtering in from the hallway, but not enough to matter. I couldn't see my hand on front of my face. Under the satin sheets, I could feel I was naked._

_ "You're awake," a familiar voice said, though I couldn't place it. _

_ Kisses trailed from my lips down to my neck and back. A hand cupped my breast, and he ran his thumb across my nipple. I immediately felt both nipples get hard. I leaned into his lips, his tongue finding mine. His lips left mine and found one of my nipples. I let a moan escape as his tongue circled and flicked it. In his hand was my other breast, kneading and pinching. I ran my fingers through his hair, and hooked a finger through his belt loop, pulling him into me. I felt his growth against me and began rocking back and forth on it. I heard a moan escape him, and his lips met up with mine again. He fumbled with his belt as I pushed his jacket off his shoulders and pulled his shirt over his head. One of his hands reached down and grabbed at my ass._

_ "You have a great ass," he said as his other hand met the sensitive part in between my legs. I mean, he knew exactly where it was. I don't know how he knew, but at this rate, I wouldn't last long. He slipped a finger inside of me and regarded how tight I was. I rocked back and forth against his hand as his lips tugged my breast again. My moans were getting louder and louder, until he stopped. _

_ "Why'd you stop? I was almost finished."_

_ "You didn't think I was gonna let you have all the fun?" He asked, laying down and pulling me on top of him. One of his hands reached up to grab my breast and the other grabbed my ass. He helped me raise and lower myself on him, again and again. I lowered my chest down to his, and he took a breast in his mouth, making me thrust harder and faster. He slapped my ass hard, calling me a "dirty pussycat." A louder moan came out, and he grabbed me by the hips, slamming me harder and harder on him until I couldn't take it anymore. I felt him shudder and release himself as I called out a final, "Benny!"_

I sat straight up and wiped the sweat off my eyebrow. What. The. Fuck.

Nothing. That was what I encountered between Primm and the Mojave Outpost. An abandoned gas station or two, with maybe a handful of caps. I kept to the roads, as I was told critters usually keep off the road. I left at around 9 that morning and got there at 5 in the evening. My legs felt like rocks by the time I reached the top of the hill, which, by the way, held the two most retarded statues I've ever seen. They put work into representing the "unification of east and west," (according to the plaque in front of the statues) but they couldn't spare the troops to Primm? I had half a mind to melt it down myself. Reshape it into a giant dick, because that's what the "brass" is, apparently.

There were two buildings to the left and a sort of fenced in area where there were caravaneers and prospectors milling about. On the roof of the first building was a sniper who was impressively pale, considering it was sunny as fuck all the time. I decided to go into that building first, and it was just a bar. I turned on my heel and walked straight back out. The next building was the one I was looking for.

"Caravan, citizen, pilgrim...?" The guy behind the desk asked.

"Uh, courier, if that's an option."

His eyes went wide as they flitted to the wound on my head.

I held up a hand, "before you even ask, yes. I am that courier. Anyways, I'm here about Primm. They need protection and I was told I could come down here, tell you about how I heroically wiped the convicts outta town, and had the town take a majority vote. Lieutenant Hayes said to come down here and speak to a Major Knight."

"That's me, ma'am. Seeing as how Primm is a great strategic point, it would be stupid to not secure it. I'll get a squad up there first thing in the morning. I just need you to sign on the appropriate lines," he pushed a piece of paper and one towards me.

I pushed the paper back to him, unsigned, and twirled my hair around the pen and stuck it in a bun, "thanks. I'm sure Primm will be really appreciative." And I walked out the door as his eyebrow raised.

Approaching the bar again, I heard a whistle. Unable to find the source, I shrugged and kept walking, until a crude voice yelled, "on the roof!" I looked up, and the pale-white sniper was motioning towards me to come up.

"You look like you can handle yourself. Watched you walking up here for a good piece," she said.

"Yeah, I'm pretty good with a gun and basic survival skills."

"My name's Ghost. I'm a ranger with the NCR. Look, there's trouble," she pointed towards a billowing cloud of black smoke in the distance, "there hasn't been traffic in or out if Nipton. That's easy enough to explain. The smoke isn't. If you could go check it out, I'd be glad to reward you."

"I'd love to, but I just walked from Primm to get here and my legs feel like bricks. I've been walking since 9 am. If it can wait until tomorrow, I am heading in that direction anyways."

She nodded, "the smokes been going on long enough that it's probably already destroyed whatever it was meant for. I suppose it can wait."

I headed back down the ramp and into the "barracks" as it's called. I sat down and figured I'd order a shot of whiskey. It burned going down and I squeezed my eyes shut. It helped dull the almost never-ending thumping in my skull, and almost instantly made me tired and well...a little horny. The only other person at the bar was a redhead with a cowboy hat on, and a rifle slung across her back. She had holes in her jeans, soft gray eyes, and her shirt was buttoned to where I could barely cast a glance of cleavage. If I was a man, I'd probably be sporting a chubs. Dear God, what is in this stuff?

I took another shot of whiskey.

"You better find something else to look at, or I'll set your eyes spinning."

And she was tough. I liked her more and more by the second.

"What if I happen to like what I'm seeing?" I asked. Maybe it was the whiskey talking.

She blushed, "are you coming on to me?"

"And what if I am?"

"I think you better look somewhere else."

"So you don't like girls?"

"After I get whiskey in me, it doesn't matter who I end up in bed with," she blushed.

"So? What's the problem if I flirt a little?" I asked.

"I don't think you could handle me."

I took another shot, "probably could. What's your name?"

"Rose of Sharon Cassidy."

"Fancy shit."

"Cass for short," She said, almost before I could finish my sentence.

"Well, I think it's time for bed," I said, stumbling over to one of the open bunk beds.

"But it's barely six..." Cass said.

I don't know what got into me. I never drink. And sure, she was attractive, but it was an open place. People were probably staring. But oh well, do recon at Nipton for Ghost, let her know the situation and I'll never be back here. NCR gives me the creeps.

I lay on the bunk, staring at the one above me, thinking about last night's dream. Benny. Of all people. Benny. I couldn't get the thought out of my mind. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. At that moment, I heard the doors open and close, and someone was standing above me.

"Yes?" I asked.

"So, you always come on to unsuspecting girls like that?" It was Cass.

"Well, usually if it's just us and no one else is around. I just think you're pretty, and with me never ever drinking, that initial shot of whiskey told me to get in your pants."

"Fair enough. Back home, they used to call me Whiskey Rose," she chuckled, "but then I punched one too many people, and now they only call me that when I'm not around."

"So you can handle your whiskey?"

"You bet! The only thing Dad left me. Other than this pendant."

I nodded and rolled over. She was standing there with her hands on her hips. I must confess, I do _not_ think the whiskey will feel good on my head in the morning.

"So just one shot and you were feeling frisky?" She asked.

"That was my first time drinking. Stressful week."

"First time drinking? How old're you?"

"23."

She chuckled, "23 and you've never had a drink? Well, I can understand, then. You're so tiny, looking at whiskey probably makes your head fog up." She had a point.

"You can't be much older than me."

"37. I've been drinking since...hell. I was just a young teenager. It's what got me into the caravan business." Holy poop, she didn't look 37.

"You're in the caravan business?" I asked.

"Yeah. Had to start carrying water instead of whiskey. At the end of the day, I'd have just glass bottles rattling on the back of brahmin. My caravan is also the reason I'm stuck in this shit hole. They've basically locked down any prospector, merchant or caravaneer that's come through here. Supposedly the roads aren't safe."

"So you only transport water?"

"Not anymore."

I gave her a questioning look.

"My...my caravan burned to ash," she looked down at the ground and folded her arms, "they didn't even take the cargo...just burned that too. But I still have caravan papers and they're what's keeping me here."

"If your caravan is gone, why do you need to wait for a clearance?"

"I don't know. Jackson's orders. So I'm just propped up by this bar for now," she sighed.

"Why not sell your caravan?"

"My Dad'd spin like a twister if he found out I sold our name."

"But you said he didn't leave you much. Why does it matter? Besides, it'll get you outta this dump."

She stoked her chin, "the Crimson Caravan Company would probably be willing to buy. Alice McLafferty is good on the money, too. I believe one of their caravaneers is here. When they get clearance, I'll ask them to take my offer up to her, I suppose." She still sounded upset.

I sat up and took my leather vest off and dumped in on the floor. I unlaced my boots and stretched my feet out, curling my toes and uncurling then until they stopped cracking. Heading back towards the bathroom, I was surprised to see that the water wasn't as dirty as I suspected. I took of my white undershirt and ripped the other arm off to make it even on both sides. My tribe's tattoo was now visible - a wolf print with two intricate, black and green bands weaving in and out of each other the whole way around the middle of my forearm. We were the (you'll never guess,) WolfPaws. I checked out my arm, which all the black charred bits had fallen off of and was replaced by new fleshy skin. It still hurt to the touch and was still healing, though the stimpack and salve did wonders for it. I washed it off with soap and water, and did the same for my head. Most of the stitches had fallen out by now, and the stimpack had done a bit to heal it up as well, although it was still crusty with blood and very sensitive.

"You that courier everyone's been talking about?" Cass asked from behind as I held my head under the faucet.

"Everyone? I thought it was just Mr. New Vegas."

"Well yeah. But that's what gets everyone talking. They say you get results when you want 'em."

I sighed. Great. Now everyone was going to think I was their personal courier or some kind of hero. I just wanted to find Benny, smash his face in, and get back home to mama in Utah. I dried myself off with a nearby towel and threw myself on the bed. My legs were on fire from all the hills and walking I had to do today, but for some reason, I couldn't seem to get comfortable. In the back of my head, the dream about Benny was replaying over and over again, but the main thing that was going through my mind was Nipton. Thinking about how I told Ghost I'd go in the morning made me feel more like a bitch by the second. On one hand, I thought "hey, it's pretty generous I'm even going." But on the other hand, people could be dying. People I could be saving. Shit, when did I get so sentimental about people I didn't even know? I sighed and swung my leg off the side of the mattress. Cass was sitting on the bed across from me, and watched silently as I laced my boots back up.

"Ghost asked me to do something for her," I explained, putting my leather vest, "I said I'd do it tomorrow, but I can't wait that long. People could be dying."

"So you are a hero, now?" Cass asked.

"Only for the right amount of caps," I smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: The Fantastic Mr. Fox

It was dark by the time we set off, and it was freezing, despite the weather being sunny and well over 110 degrees out a few hours ago. I had to get Jackson to agree to let me bring Cass. Walking to Nipton would take about an hour to get there, and I even had Ghost tell him how dangerous it could be. I was to bring Cass right back when we were done. No side stops, no more exploring than needed. Cass was just happy to be out of the Outpost for a while, and I was happy to have a little bit of company.

Between the Outpost and Nipton, there were a few radscorpions, which weren't much to deal with. Cass was awesome with her shotgun, taking down most radscorps before I even noticed them. There were a few junkies that tried shaking us down, appearing as harmless beggars until they got close. The one pulled a knife, and the other had a baseball bat. They freaked out when we pulled out our guns and started running away. Cass figured we should let them go, but they were back in a matter of minutes. The one came from behind and hit me in the back of the knee with the baseball bat. I gave a blind shot at him and it clipped his arm. He dropped his baseball bat, and I heard a shot go off. Cass had leveled the other junkie. I got up and took another shot, killing the junkie. Added a streak to my now clean face as Cass gave me a strange look. Searching them, we split the total bottlecaps (which was only 17 total,) and there was a lot of Psycho and Med-X, which we just left there.

"You one of them tribals?" She asked.

I sighed, "yeah. I should stop smearing blood on my face around people if I don't want them to ask questions."

"I'm sorry. Didn't think it was offensive. I noticed the mark on yer arm, and my mama had one kinda like that. She was a tribal too, and I guess my dad was embarrassed by it. He up and left...didn't say where he was going." What's with no one having dads around here? I mean, I don't have a dad anymore, but he only died a few years ago. He didn't just leave us just because he felt like it. He was the most caring person I knew, too.

As we neared Nipton, the stench in the air became much worse. I couldn't even begin to describe it. It was absolutely foul, like something was burning, which is probably where the black smoke came from. It was a little after 8 at night, and the fire was visible from as far away as we could smell it. In fact, there was more than one fire.

Ghost told us to check the town hall for survivors, but I ducked into a General Store real quick to see if they had anything worthwhile. A black man was sitting in a chair, his legs horribly mangled. Bones stuck out in each direction, and there was blood and dirt caked all over him.

"What the fuck? Who the fuck are you?" He asked.

"No one in particular. Just here to get supplies and I'll be on my way," I said.

"Wait a second...that head wound. You're the courier that got leveled over in Goodsprings?"

Goddammit. "Yeah, whatever the radio says today." I began poking around here and there, finding a few caps in a register and a couple stimpacks.

"So what happened to your legs?" Cass asked.

"The fucking lottery, that's what happened."

I came up from under the counter and Cass and I stared at each other for a good moment or two, before I finally asked, "what lottery?"

He slapped his palm against his face, "what lottery? What fucking lottery? Are you stupid?"

"I guess," Cass and I said at the same time.

"A bunch of those Legion fucks came into town and rounded us up. Started giving out lottery tickets and calling 'em out. The lucky losers got decapitated. Lucky 'cause it's quick, I guess. They crucified the next bunch, and third place winners were enslaved. I was second place, got the fuck beat outta my legs. And that asshole Swanick took first place. Him, they let walk. And they burned the dickbag mayor alive on a pile of tires."

"I can offer you a stimpack," I said.

"A stimpack? Bitch, are you retarded? My bones need to be set back in place first and I ain't doing all that without Med-X."

"Hey," Cass said, "don't call my friend here retarded. She'll make your jaw match your legs."

"That's right. I forgot about the number you did on Joe Cobb's crew. Well, don't let an old cripple get to you. I'm just in a lot of pain," he said, sheepishly.

"Do you think Swanick is still in town? Maybe we can talk to him," I asked no one in particular.

"He'd be stupid to stick around after the Legion let him off," Cass said.

"Well, I know those Legion assholes are still around. They're hanging out around the town hall until the people they crucified are dead."

"Which would take a while."

The scene around me was grisly as I headed towards the town hall. Heads on pikes with dead eyes stared at us as we walked into town, the stench of death and burning tires overpowering. The crucified people were mostly all Powder Gangers and they moaned inaudible phrases at Cass and I as we walked past them into town. Once we got close, this motherfucker with a dog hat on comes up to us. Introduced himself as Vulpes Inculta. The V was pronounced like a W. Part of their 'I wanna be like the Roman Empire' shit.

"Back off, right now, Fox," I said as I held Romulus up to him.

If you haven't caught on, I was deeply in love with the Roman Empire. My mother taught history at a small ragtag school in our village. I took a great interest in it as well, learning everything I could about Roman mythology, Greek mythology, and ancient Egyptians. Romulus seemed like a good name for my shotgun, because Romulus, according to legend, founded Rome with his brother, Remus. Romulus smashed Remus' head in with a rock so he could become the ruler of Rome alone. So Romulus seemed like a pretty bad ass name for my gun that I often killed people with. I also took to languages pretty easily. I knew phrases in German, Latin, Japanese, and Spanish. Not much, since what I've gotten was out of bits and pieces of old-world textbooks or people I've met briefly in my travels.

"Ah, so you know the language of Caesar?" He asked, pronouncing Caesar like kai-zar.

"Not so much the language of Caesar himself, but of the Romans."

"I'll ask you nicely to lower your gun," he raised his arms, prompting Cass and I to look around him, "there are plenty of us and only two of you. Besides, I want to let you live. I want you to memorize every horrible detail of the fall of Nipton, and let anyone you may come in contact with to understand these tragedies. To let them see it as you see it now. Tell it with such vivid details that they will not question the mighty Legion."

I was dumbfounded. They did this to strike fear into people? This was their idea of fun?

"Why did you do this?" I asked.

"To teach a lesson, of course."

"What lesson?"

"We are strong and they are weak. They were disgusting. They asked for this to happen."

They asked for it? That was his argument? "How?"

"It was a town of whores. Served all comers so long as they paid. NCR, Powder Gangers, Legion men such as myself..."

"Wait," Cass said, "doesn't that make you just as bad for buying the whores?"

"Talk of whores, coming from a group that sells women," I bared my teeth.

"To officers to be their wives," he said with a matter-of-fact tone, "I should take you both back as slaves. You'd catch a fair amount. I think you could even make it as a high-ranking officers' wives," his fingers were twirling my hair, and it sent disgusted chills down my spine.

"Is anyone else alive?" I asked.

"Not a single person, except the first and second place winners."

"Okay, I think it's time to go," I said.

Vulpes let go of my hair and commanded his men to lower their guns. I walked backwards out of Nipton until I could no longer see the glare of the fire in the distance. Cass sighed, her shotgun still drawn, but loosely hanging from her right hand.

"I should've just blown his head off. Thought the creep was gonna take a piece of you right there," she said.

"Yeah, but there were more than enough to kill us. It wouldn't have been worth it."

"What a kick Caesar's balls it would be for one of his head men to be killed by a woman!"

"I'm sure he has more than enough men to replace him though."

Cass made a snorting noise and we were silent until we were back at the Outpost. It seemed like Ghost noticed us coming from 100 yards away, and she was almost pissing her pants to hear the news.

"Nipton was burned. To the ground. By Legion. Only two people survived," I said.

"Legion? This far west? No fucking way. They're coming in fast and we don't have the resources to stop them," she sighed, "I wish this would've put my mind at ease...but now I'm more on edge than ever."

She handed me what she said was 200 bottlecaps, and she said she'd put a word in for me around camp. Cass and I headed back down to the barracks and took a bed. My legs were numb and my body was so tired that it was aching, but my mind was racing more than ever. It was almost 11 at night when Cass started snoring, and I couldn't do anything but lay there and stare at the top bunk. I had just inadvertently dragged myself into some shit I wanted no part of, didn't I?

Sleep didn't come easy. My eyes started getting heavy around two in the morning, but when I finally closed them, nightmares reared their ugly heads.

_It was pure black. I could still see around me, but it was like I was in a room with the walls and ceiling painted black, with black carpeting. The guy from Goodsprings made an appearance, seemingly out of nowhere. The bullet hole in the middle of his forehead was seeping blood, but he was standing, looking me directly in the eye._

"_What do you want?" I asked, my voice wavering._

"_I'm here to send you a message."_

"_Oh yeah?" I kinda wanted to stick my finger in the bullet hole, "What's that?"_

_ "You're no better than Benny," he said._

_ His face started transforming, twisting and contorting. His brown, messy hair started getting darker and more slicked back. His shirt and pants changed to a pair of gray slacks and a checkered coat. His face was now Benny's. I took a step back, but I was already against a wall. He took a step towards me, closing the gap between us._

_ "Baby doll, what's the point of this vengeance if you're just gonna do to them what I did to you?"_

_ I couldn't even open my mouth to talk. It was getting harder and harder to breathe through my nose. Benny reached up and traced the scar on my head, and his touch burned. I could feel it in the depths of my brain, melting my skull like it was metal. It hurt worse than when I had my arm burnt by that fucking flamer. I couldn't scream. The breath that was held in my lungs was slowly escaping, but I couldn't bring anymore in._

_ He pulled his finger back, covered in blood and smiled, but it didn't look like his smile. It looked like the smile of the woman who carried me through life. The woman who farmed, taught, had worked odd-end jobs to give me what I wanted. Benny's hair grew longer, and got lighter. His suit changed to a purple silk robe, the right sleeve cut short so her tribe's mark was showing._

_ "Why? Why did you leave?" She was crying. I still couldn't open my mouth to talk. Around her neck, something appeared. It was tight, her skin bulging around the top and bottom. A little silver box was blinking red. Her silk robe dissolved into what looked like a dirty brown burlap sack, barely covering her, "They came. After you left. They came and enslaved and killed all of us! You weren't there!"_

_ She fiddled with the collar, and it started making a high-pitched beeping. My eyes went wide as I realized it was an explosive collar. I reached my hand out to stop her, but it was too late. There was a loud bang, a terrible ripping and shredding feeling as we were torn apart limb-by-limb. And then there was darkness._

I sat up with a jolt, slamming my head off of the top bunk. My vision went fuzzy, and my head started thumping where the bullet wound was. I was breathing heavily, making up for the time my lungs weren't working in my dream. When I finally got my breath back, I looked around. It was still dark out. Cass was on her side watching me, but she didn't say anything. My Pip-boy said it was only five in the morning. Great, a whole three hours of sleep and I couldn't will my eyes shut for longer than maybe ten seconds.

At this time, most of the troopers were awake and doing some form of exercise. I slipped my shoes back on, washed my face and hair, and decided to set off. I needed to make up for lost time.

Cass was right behind me, asking when I'd be back and telling me to check out the Crimson Caravan for work. She marked the location on my Pip-boy and I was on my way. She called out, "I'll meet you on the flip side after I get my clearance papers!" The Mojave was large, though, and even though I wanted to, I doubt I'd see her again.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Night Time Sniper

I decided I'd go back through Nipton and check things out. The fires had started to die out, and Boxcars (as he called himself,) was still in the general store, looking tired and hungry. I grabbed the Med-X from the fiends Cass and I leveled on the way there the day before. They had a total of six doses between the two of them. I made sure to stock up on clean water at the Outpost and I bought a box of Abraxo cleaner.

"Boxcars?" I whispered.

"Oh for fucks sake, it's really you again? Here to kill me like you did Cobb's crew?"

"No. I wanna fix your legs."

"I already told you..."

"I know. I got some knowledge of medicine. I'll do the best I can."

I put one dose of Med-X in each of his legs and waited until he told me they were numb. I poured some water of each leg and started cleaning them with Abraxo. Doc Mitchell told me that was the fastest wound cleaner he's ever used. When they were no longer dirty, I poured more clean water until the soap was gone.

"You might wanna close your eyes," I warned.

I started popping his bones back into place. His legs probably wouldn't look normal again, but they'd be close. He'd at least be able to walk. I cringed at each popping noise, grinding my teeth to make sure I didn't have any unwanted vomit coming up. Eventually, it felt like he didn't have any out-of-place bones. I re-cleaned the skin and stuck one stimpack in each leg.

He looked down at me, and his smile was so wide, I couldn't help but smile back. I left him the rest of the Med-X and two more stimpacks. I did a good deed, and it felt good.

I headed east towards Novac feeling accomplished. Not even when I had feral ghouls running at me, did it lower my mood. I saw a dinosaur off in the distance, and it was still relatively early, considering I left at 5 this morning. An old lady in a scrap yard surrounded by dogs waved to me, and I waved back. There was a traveling doctor walking the same street I was taking into Novac. And sitting just in front of the welcome sign was none other than...Victor.

"Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit!" He exclaimed.

"Victor! What are you doing out here?" I asked. Jesus Christ, it's been forever since I've seen a familiar face.

He scratched at what I guess was the robot's "chin," with his claw-like hand, "don't rightly know. Just decided I wanted to go to Vegas."

I nodded, "well, good to see you." And I left to check out the main office.

Inside, there was an older lady with her hair pulled back in a tight bun. She wore large glasses that made her eyes look twice as big, and her dress was green at one point. Now it was so covered in dirt, I could barely make out the color underneath. She was super cheerful, and even in my good mood, it seemed like the cheerfulness was only superficial.

"Hello! And welcome to the Dino Dee-Lite motel! This is our fine little slice of heaven right here on Earth! Would you like to rent a room? They're the finest around!"

"Hi. Uhm, I don't need a room right now. But, what did you say your name was?"

"Oh my godness, I didn't! My names Jeannie May. Got so into talking about our little town, I didn't even realize how rude I was being. Anyways, how 'bout I set you up with a room for 100 caps, and it's yours 'til the busy season?"

Well, why the hell not? "Sure," I handed over 100 caps and asked her what there was to do around here.

"Well, there's the gift shop. It's inside of the giant dinosaur. We have an injured NCR ranger staying here, and there are two gentleman snipers that keep watch outta the dinosaur's mouth. Honestly, it's been real quiet..." She looked worried. I mean, it looked like she thought I was going to rape all of the women and burn the motel and the dinosaur to the ground.

"Are you okay? You look...worried."

"Oh, no. I'm fine, honey. Maybe a bit stressed is all."

Oh no. She's up to something, "I was told a guy in a checkered coat came through here. Did you see anything?"

"Oh. Uh, no. Sorry. Maybe ask Manny, the day time sniper. I think I saw them stop and talk to him."

"Thanks..." She was being awful shady. But for now, I grabbed the key off of her and went to check out my motel room. It was messy, but comfortable looking. I threw my duffle bag on the bed and locked the door. Maybe Manny would talk to me.

It was dim inside the dinosaur belly, and it took a second for my eyes to adjust. The crude change of light made my head pound again. I sighed. There was an old-world song playing on the old ham radio, and a balding black man behind the counter. In every direction, there were toy dinosaurs. There was even a sign hanging behind the man that read, "Dino Bite gift shop. Yes! We have T-Rexes!"

"If you're here for the dinosaurs, you're just in time. Got a few in stock!" He said.

"I actually didn't bring my caps with me. I just wanted to talk to the sniper," I said, smiling.

"Darn it. No one ever buys the T-Rexes." He said as I walked up the steps.

I knocked on the door before stepping out. There was a man in his late 20s-ish, looking of Hispanic descent, with a thin black mustache. He wore merc clothes, but he had an NCR first recon beret on and a sniper rifle strapped to his back.

"Uh, hey. I'm a courier. Looking for someone Jeannie May said you might've seen," I said, quietly.

"Are you that courier on the radio? I may know exactly who you're looking for."

"Any information would be appreciated."

"How about we do a trade. I'll tell you some info now, you do something for me, and I'll tell you the rest when you're finished."

"Okay..." I just knew this was gonna be a difficult task.

"Okay, so there have been ghouls coming from up north. Tons of 'em. I think they're all coming from the REPCONN Factory. This is my home now. I'd like to keep it safe. If you can go up there and stop whatever's going on, I'll be in your debt."

Ghouls? That's the task I'm assigned? How many ghouls did I kill coming here? "Okay. You got yourself a deal," I said.

"Okay. So a couple members of my old gang came through with a guy named Benny. He was wearing this awfully tacky checkered suit."

"Your old gang?"

"Yeah. The Great Khans. Toughest of the tough."

"I know who the Khans are, but I see you're wearing an NCR beret?" I glanced back up at it. A two headed bear with rifles crossed in the back. It read, "the last thing you never see."

"Yeah, well. I was with the Khans when I was young. But when the NCR came around, my best friend encouraged me to sign up. Earn my future."

"Your best friend?"

"Boone, the night time sniper. We're not exactly talking at the moment though," he sighed.

"Why?" I asked.

"Well, he falls for this woman. New Vegas type. Always had better than what Boone could give her. Let everyone know she was better than them. And she's trying to take him away. So yeah. I didn't see eye-to-eye with the bitch. And then, she just disappears one day. Now he suddenly won't talk to me."

"Any idea what happened?"

"None. Not a single clue," he said, exhaustedly.

It seemed like he was being honest. Why would he want to do anything to his best friend's wife, even if she was a cunt?

"Okay. I'm gonna talk to Boone, see what he knows about REPCONN. Then I'll head out," I said.

"I wouldn't talk to Boone when he's not up here. He's either sleeping, which he doesn't do, or he's sulking. We switch shifts at 9 at night, so I'd come up a little after then. He keeps a clear head when he's up here. That's one thing I won't take from him. He's the best shot I know."

I headed back down to my motel room and grabbed some caps. I checked out the gift shop and even bought a T-Rex. It was only a cap. He had a few stimpacks and a doctor's bag that was worth buying. He also had some ammo for Romulus, which was good, because I had to switch to my 9mm because I ran out of ammo on the way here. I also bought some purified water, because I used mine on Boxcars earlier. Only on the way back to my room with my spoils did I truly realize how tired I was. I haven't gotten much sleep lately, and I could feel it in my bones.

I fell on the bed next to my duffle bag that I threw my new stuff in, and I immediately fell asleep (even though the blankets smelled of mildew.)

I woke up to a gunshot. It was getting dark and chilly outside. A quick glance at my Pip-boy revealed it was nearing eight at night, meaning I slept for around five hours. I stretched, and dug through the old dressers in my room. Nothing of use. I sighed and a shiver ran through me. I swished some water through my mouth and washed up a bit, although the dirty water didn't make me feel much cleaner. When I closed the bathroom door, I noticed there was a closet behind it. In the closet, there were suits, and dresses, and coats, and hooded sweatshirts of all sizes and colors. I picked up a black hooded sweatshirt with faux fur around the hood. It was form fitting, and I had to cut a hole in the sleeve where my Pip-boy was, take it off, put the hoodie on, and then put the Pip-boy back on my arm that way. More trouble than it was worth, but I really liked my new hoodie. It wasn't in bad shape either. Just smelled like the old closet it was kept in.

I still had an hour before I was gonna go see 'Boone', so I decided I'd start asking around about his wife. See what people thought of her and her disappearance.

Most people thought she was a total bitch and no one had any clue what happened to her. Some of the squatters said they got there after she disappeared and didn't even know who Boone was. Ranger Andy said he liked her and Boone always had a funny-looking grin on his face when he was with her. The only one to offer up any kind of reasoning as to why she was gone, was Jeannie May. She said Carla (I guess that was her name,) was very pretty, but no one could get close to her, "like a cactus flower." She also said Carla was used to the fast living and bright lights of Vegas, and she wanted Boone to move there with her. Boone wouldn't, so she went there by herself and left Boone.

"How do you know this, but Boone doesn't?" I asked.

"Well, I...I, uh...well, it's just a guess, really. Don't know for sure."

She is so fucking shady. She knows what happened, I just know she does. But, judging by my Pip-boy, it was time to go see the night sniper. I knocked on the door again, but there was no answer. I slowly opened it, and poked my head through the crack in the door. There was a sniper rifle pointed right between my eyes. I raised my hands up as I continued to come through the door.

"In case you didn't notice, there's a gun pointed at your face. That means 'stop' where I come from," his voice was deep and a little on the monotone side. I couldn't see much past his gun. Just another NCR beret.

"Look, I'm not here to...do anything. I just wanted to ask about the old REPCONN Facility up north. Manny wants me to check it out. Thought you might know something."

He lowered the gun, "I know you've been asking about Carla."  
Well, slap my ass and call me Nancy if word around here doesn't fly fast.

With his gun lowered, I was finally able to take a look at this man's face. Even though it was night time, he wore sunglasses, so I couldn't get a good look at his eyes. He had a square jaw, and black stubble on his chin and jaw line. Dear lord, this man was gorgeous.

"Well, Manny told me she disappeared, so I figured I'd do some asking around."

"She's dead," he said with certainty.

"Oh. But, I mean...how do you know?"

"I just know. But, since you're a stranger, maybe you can help."

"Oh?"

"Well, being as that you just got into town, I can say you're not the person who sold my wife."

"Wait. Whoa, what? Sold your wife?"

"Yeah. It was someone who knows the area around here. The Legion patrols knew when to come, what route to take, and where we lived to take Carla while I was here. And they only took her. Someone here sold my wife to the Legion. And I want to kill them for it."

I immediately thought of Jeannie May and how shady she's been, "if you're asking for help, I'll help you."

His stiff features melted for a second, but barely long enough for me to notice before he was back to being hardened.

"Thanks. Here's my beret," he said, taking it off to reveal his head was shaven underneath, "take the person who sold my wife down there," he pointed to a pile of rocks below the dinosaur, "I'll have a clear shot. Put the beret on. It'll be my signal."

I nodded and shoved the beret in my pocket.

As I was walking back down to the gift shop, he said, "we shouldn't speak 'til this is over."

I went back to the motel lobby, but the door was locked. Jeannie May must be in for the night. If I wanted to sneak in quietly, I'd have to pick the lock. I went back to my hotel room and grabbed a screwdriver I saw lying around. I could probably use a bobby pin I had my hair pulled back with to apply pressure on the tumblers.

I pulled open the bobby pin, and stuck half of it in. I used the screw driver to turn the lock itself, but no luck. I moved and jiggled the bobby pin around a bit and tried turning the lock again. It made a satisfying click, and the door pushed open. I laughed to myself, because I honestly sucked at picking locks. Seriously, a four year old could do better. I looked around, and as far as I could see, no one was watching. I closed the door and flicked on the lights. I began searching through drawers, cabinets, filing cabinets, finding shit that no one ever needed in the history of ever. The desk was my next option, and was also empty. As I pushed the chair behind the desk to get a good look in another set of drawers, I noticed a floor safe. Right under the chair. Bingo.

After every bobby pin I had was broken, I sat in frustration. It was 10:27 pm, according to my Pip-boy, and I just spent probably ten minutes trying to unlock this safe. I had an idea, though it was probably risky.

I asked someone which house was Jeannie May's, and I knocked on her door, half expecting her not to answer. But she did. And now I had to think of something fast.

"Can I come in?" I asked, "it's about Boone's wife."

"I already told you I don't know-"

"I was sent by the Legion. They want to discuss the terms-"

"Shhh, come in. Be quiet, though."

I had a dog, and Bingo was his motherfucking name-o.

I stepped inside the house and had a seat on the chair right next to the door. She looked down at me, then back to the door, and then around the room. She tapped her foot and bit her nails.

"What would they want to discuss further? They got Carla, and they said they would give me 500 more caps when the baby was born."

Well, holy fucking shit, that was just about the easiest thing I've ever done. "Well, that's the thing. The baby didn't make it, but they wanted to give you the other half of the caps anyways, and discuss perhaps trading someone else?" I tried to keep my tone light, as though I wasn't making this up on the spot. I was honestly surprised to hear that Carla was also pregnant. Even if she was a bitch, Boone lost his wife _and_ child.

"Oh my. Poor thing. Did they say how she lost it?" She asked.

_Poor thing? _"They said they think she just might not be fit to carry a child. Anyways, they're just outside of town. Would you like to negotiate?"

"Sure, just let me get my purse."

I dug my hands into my pockets, keeping a tight grip on Boone's beret. She was asking me stuff the whole way out to the dinosaur, even though I told her to keep her questions for them. I kept my head forward, never taking my eyes off the rocks Boone pointed out to me. I didn't go towards them, but instead kept to the road so Jeannie May wouldn't be suspicious. From this angle, he'd still have a perfect shot. As we passed the rocks I pulled the beret out of my pocket. I barely had it on my head before I heard a gunshot and pieces of Jeannie May's head splattered on me.

I ripped off a piece of her dress to wipe my face off with and dug through her purse. I found roughly 20 bottlecaps and a keyring. I smeared a line on my cheek, and dipped it back in her blood. This was technically Boone's kill...his glory. I held up a finger telling Boone to hold on, and I went back to the motel lobby, shoving my hair in the beret. I probably looked like a first recon myself.

I opened the safe, and there were 300 more caps and a receipt from the Legion saying they received the slave Carla Boone and paid Jeannie May 1000 bottlecaps for her, plus 500 more for the fetus, and once it was born, they'd give her 500 more. I was sick to my stomach. I wish I would've gotten the chance to ask her why she was working with the Legion. That poor man. And Manny said he "sulked." He had every right to at this point. Boone needed some kind of support, and he obviously wasn't getting it from his "best friend." Hate boiled inside my stomach, and I turned around to kick the chair. It flew into the wall and made a satisfying shattering noise as the back of the chair fell on the ground and the rest of it slowly wheeled across the room.

I folded the note up and put it in my pocket. Back inside the dinosaur's mouth, Boone gave me a questioning look. I brought my finger up to smear the almost dry blood on his cheek, but he grabbed my wrist with his large, veiny hands with a death grip and put it back at my side.

"Geez, don't break my fuckin' wrist, man."

"Get your finger outta my damn face, then. How'd you know?"

I unfolded the bill of sale and handed it to him, without looking at him or saying a word. I felt like I just sold his wife and child, instead of Jeannie May.

"Just like them, keeping receipts. I expect this wasn't in an easy-to-find place? How'd you get her to admit it?" He asked.

"Well she was being incredibly shady, for one. Really twitchy and worried every time I saw her. She was the only one to offer up a reason as to why she disappeared. Said she left you and went to Vegas. And I remembered you saying you saying she was taken by Legion. So I told her the Legion sent me to discuss some additional terms. She opened right up."

Even behind his sunglasses, he looked impressed. I shrugged, "mama always said I had that silver tongue. So what are you gonna do now?" I asked.

His eyes went back to being sad and tired. "Nothing. Just stay up here like I do at night, I guess."

"But...you just killed Jeannie May. Won't people look for you?"

"People die. Besides, I was on break. Maybe I'll wander, like you."

"Why not wander with me?" I asked before I could even think what I was asking.

He stared me down for a minute before asking, "you're not asking what I think you are, are you? Because, in case you missed the last hour of what you were doing...I do have a wife."

_Isn't she…dead? _"Oh. Uh. No. I'm on a mission to find the guy who shot me," I pointed at my scar and realized his beret was still on my head.

"Good. Even though Carla is dead, I still belong to her. So don't get too many ideas. Now, give me my beret back...please."

I handed his beret back and ran my hand through what was left of my hair For a second, I thought about fucking with him, but he'd probably just blow my head off, "anyways, I'm looking for the guy who did this to me. He buried me in a shallow grave. Didn't even have the decency to kill me right." I may have seen a corner of his mouth pull up, "Manny knows some info, but I gotta clear out the ghouls at REPCONN before he'll tell me anything."

"Well what are we waiting for?" He asked.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Ghoul's Night Out

I grabbed my duffle bag before we set off, and wrapped my arms around myself. I was freezing.

"How are you not cold?" I has on a simple gray shirt with a pair of dark green pants, and big combat boots. Around his neck hung a set of NCR dogtags, and even though they were under his shirt, I could see the outline of them. He had a hunting knife hanging from his one belt loop. He shrugged at me. Oh man, he is gonna be one tough nut to crack.

He kept his rifle at the ready, constantly scanning the area, always vigilante, "if we come across any crimson sports gear, I will fire first and ask later."

"Crimson sports gear?"

"You've never noticed the ridiculous armor that the lower ranking Legionaries wear?"

"I haven't really dealt with the Legion much," I admitted.

"They wear old-world sports gear as their armor. It's not at all useful. Only the higher-ranks get better armor."

"Hm," I mused to myself.

I kept Romulus at the ready as well, and at the bottom of the hill leading up to the facility, there was a glowing pile of...I wasn't even sure. Until I got up close, that is. It looked like a glowing ghoul. A soft crackling noise came from my Pip-boy, and a screen came up displaying "rads." I poked it with Romulus, obviously it was dead, but it looked so...strange. Glowing bright green human remains that give off radiation aren't a common thing for me.

"It's a feral ghoul," Boone said, "the locals have taking to calling these particular ones, 'glowing ones.' Over exposure of radiation." He said, with a matter-of-fact tone.

We kept going on, and as we reached the top of the hill, a feral ghoul close to us let out a terrifying screech. Boone leveled it before I even brought Romulus up. But the screech let the other ferals know our location, and all of the sudden, we had five more ghouls running towards up. By the time I killed one, Boone had the other four in heaping piles of rotting flesh.

My jaw hung, and I gave him the most amazed look I could muster.

"Keep up, sister," he said, lighting a cigarette.

"Are you turning this into a competition?" I asked.

"I can tell you're a good shot. Wouldn't have made it far wandering around if you weren't," he said, "but I was in the NCR. I was trained to be the best of the best. To not hesitate. To find enemy weak points and put them down with one bullet."

"What was your tour like?"

He didn't answer. I sighed with boredom. Ahead of us, there was a small "watch station," if you can call it that. It was a little area blocked off by scrap pieces of metal. There was a table with a chessboard on it and a couple chairs surrounding it, and a mattress nearby. There were two sets of shelves, but other than a couple spare bottlecaps and another strange blue-star cap, there was nothing of use to me. A couple energy cells, scrap metal pieces, and mines. None of which I needed. Hell, I'd probably blow myself up with the mines.

Near the shack, there was another dead ghoul, except this one didn't look feral. And it had some weird robes on, with a laser pistol attached to its hip. In the pockets of it's robes, it had a handful of caps and energy cells. I threw the laser pistol in my bag. It might catch a nice price. There was a bend, and then at the bottom of the hill was the REPCONN facility. Boone leveled the three ghouls that ran towards us. There were a few more dead ghouls with strange robes on the way to the door, and in front of the door, there was a giant dead...purple mutant?

"Boone...this mutant is purple?" It was more of a question than a statement. Sure, I've seen regular mutants before and who hasn't? But I've never seen them come in purple.

"Yeah. They're called Nightkin. Addicted to stealthboys, which causes schizophrenia."

"We do not have that brand of super mutant back in Utah."

We entered the building and were standing in a lobby. A half-circular desk held three computer terminals, and the Sunset Sarsaparilla vending machine was still lit up, making an eerie flickering in the dark.

"Hey! Smoothskin! Over here!" The intercom to my left called out in a voice that sounded like he smoked three packs a day for forty years.

I pushed in the button and held it in while I asked, "do you mean us?"

"Yes, you. Take the metal stairs to your right all the way up. And hurry."

The static died out and I looked at Boone and shrugged. We did as the voice asked, and along the way, we saw more dead ghouls in robes, dead feral ghouls and dead Nightkin. Bodies littered the floor and staircase, making it hard to navigate in the dark area. As we reached the door, it was locked.

"Alright, Smoothskin. I'll let you in. But you better watch yourself. I'll sure as hell be watching you."

I heard the lock click open, and upon opening the door, I was greeted by none other than a human. He was balding and wore a simple white lab coat, but the voice behind the intercom was definitely that of a ghoul...

"Jason is upstairs. He wants to speak to you, Smoothskin," he said. It was the same voice.

"I, uh...what?" I asked.

"Jason. Is upstairs. He wants. To speak. To you." He said, slowly.

"But why are you calling me 'Smoothskin?' I mean, your skin looks smooth, too..."

"Your tricks won't work on me. Quit wasting my time! Go see Jason!"

I looked back at Boone and shrugged. The place was crawling with ghouls in strange robes, like the dead ones that littered our path here. Almost every ghoul looked the same, so we stood around trying to figure out who Jason was for quite a while until he found us.

He was a 'glowing one,' as Boone called them. He wore an old, worn out suit that was missing huge chunks here and there, probably from his radiation. My Geiger counter was crackling at me from the second he stepped up to us. When he spoke, it was almost as though he had an echo.

"Oh praise be, wanderer! You have actually shown up, just as my visions shown you would have."

I took a step back and held up my hands, "sorry. My Geiger counter is saying you're a bit radioactive, and I don't wanna get rad poisoning. Anyways, I'm here because a town to the south has been seeing a lot of feral ghouls lately."

"I understand, wanderer. Have they been killing my ghouls?"

"Well, they _have_ been attacking Novac."

"We wish to bring them with us, so please do not kill any more of them. But it is of great luck you have shown up. My flock and I were on our way to service one day when these demons appeared from out of nowhere and attacked us. Some fled further into the basement. Some fought bravely, and most of them perished. The rest of us were cornered up here. The demons raved at us over the intercom, saying we would be safe if we kept out of the basement."

"Invisible demons?"

"Well, not entirely. Where one would stand, one would simply see the air shimmering."

"Sounds like the Nightkin," Boone said.

"If you could drive out the demons, we could finish our preparations for The Great Journey into the Far Beyond. We were almost done when we were attacked."

"Okay," I sighed.

"Oh bless you wandered! Praise be!"

"So," I said as Boone and I made our way to the basement, "Boone is your last name. So what's your first?"

"Well I only know you as 'courier,' so you tell me what your name is."

I fidgeted, "I hate giving out my name. Kind of like the only thing I own, you know?"

"Uh huh. I'm sure it's something embarrassing," he said jokingly. At least I hope it was a joke. Hard to tell with him.

"My name is Harley. My mom and dad were really the only ones to call me by my name."

"Well, I think it's a nice name. Can I call you Harley, or do you prefer Courier?"

"You can call me Harley, as long as you tell me your name."

"Craig." Craig, huh? Suits him.

At that point in time, we reached the basement. There were three doors, one to the right, another further down and to the right, and one straight ahead down another couple of stairs. We went down the one to our immediate right, and it brought us to a level above rooms that held generators and storage closets. From up on the catwalk, I could see a few of the Nightkin, and a couple of dead ghouls.

"I think we should turn around," Boone whispered.

"Good idea."

We came back to the main room, and decided to go to the one on the right further down. In this room, there was a Nightkin standing behind a desk, and on that desk was a lone brahmin skull.

"Intruders! I say we kill them, Antler!" He boomed.

Boone and I began to back up, but the Nightkin wasn't attacking. He just looked as though he were pondering in deep thought.

"You sure, Antler? Okay," he said to the skull and then turned to us, "uh. Hi. Humans."

"Hi..." I said back, waiting for something.

"Antler says you can help us."

"Maybe, but first, I was wondering...why are you here? The ghouls upstairs said you locked them away up there."

"Humans...who are friends to ghouls? Seems suspicious," he said.

"Yeah, well they sent me down here to see what you're doing."

"We're here because of Stealthboy shipment. Boxes and boxes of them, in basement somewhere. Kin have searched basement but no luck. Must be in one room we can't search."

"Why can't you search it?"

"There's a ghoul. Not squishy like others. Set traps and killed a few of my Kin. We locked him inside."

"If you have the key, I'll check it out," I said.

He slid a key across the desk to me and nodded at it, "I can't guarantee my Kin will not attack. They crazy. Not right in head, like I am. Told ghouls to stay upstairs because they will all die down here."

Not crazy? He's talking to a fucking brahmin skull. Either way, I picked up the key and headed to the room that was straight ahead when we first came in (it was now to my right.) As we entered, there was a warning shot fired at our feet. From up on a catwalk, a ghoul was aiming his gun at us.

"Sorry. Thought maybe a few Nightkin had a death wish," he said.

"Nope. Just two humans, sent by Jason to clear out the basement."

"I bet he told you it was the creator's will for you to risk your ass instead of him, eh?"

I rubbed the back of my head, "yeah. I'm guessing you're not in his weird group?"

"No. I'm more like a hired body guard. They keep good company, and I'm an okay shot. Besides, Jason's group has some fine looking ghoulettes in it."

I nodded and raised my eyebrows at Boone, who never took his eyes off the ghoul.

"So how'd you get stuck up here?"

"Stuck? This is a great strategic point," he said. After I stared holes in him, he admitted, "I guess you can tell this is a shitty room to guard. You're right. I'm stuck. The name's Harlin."

"Okay. Hi, Harlin. Jason wants me to clear out the Nightkin, and they said they'd leave if we search this room."

"You can search this room, but I ain't leaving until I know what happened to my friend. There was a big fight with some of those uglies one morning. Some of us ran back upstairs, but a couple of people panicked and ran the opposite way. My friend was one of them."

"I uh, I think I already found her," recalling the two dead ghouls I saw earlier from up on the catwalk.

"It's not good then? Spare me the details. Thanks for letting me know."

He opened a door at the bottom of a set up steps and rushed past Boone and I. I could tell he was upset, but I knew nothing I could say would change that. On the way to the steps, we had to tip-toe around traps and mines he placed. Up on the catwalk, everything was fine. No traps, no mines, no jury rigged shotguns. Over in the corner, I could make out the green glow of an old terminal. I sat down at the chair and began reading through emails. One about a Stealthboy shipment and how cool they were. Another about a merge with RobCo and the new rules to be set in place. Another about cleaning up after themselves in the kitchen. And the last one was about the shipment being a mistake and they needed it sent back asap.

"Found it," I said and Boone came around and read the email over my shoulder, blowing smoke all over the monitor and in my face, "time to get the Nightkin outta here."

Back in Antler's room, I told the Nightkin, (who called himself Davison...said that was his last name and he couldn't remember his first,) the Stealthboy shipment was no longer here because it was a mistake. He seemed to get angry, asked Antler if he should kill us. He then scolded Antler for being too trusting.

"Me and Nightkin will leave. Find new Stealthboys. Better not be lying," he stuck a gigantic purple finger in my face before cleaning the room.

After a few minutes, we were back up on the first floor. We told Jason we had cleared out the "demons" and he started with all his "praise be" stuff again.

"We can finally begin The Great Journey! Thank you, wanderer! Follow us to the basement, we'll begin our preparations there."

Under the desk where Davison stood, there was a hatch that popped open to reveal a whole other floor under the basement. Ghouls in space suits rushed past us and we almost had to jog to keep up with them. We stopped in an old control room, and Chris cane up from behind.

"I want you to work with Chris for the remainder of the preparations, wanderer. You'll work from up here...the radiation on the pad would probably kill you three in seconds," Jason said.

"So wait. You're not taking Chris?"

"No. Vision upon vision has shown me that Chris will die if we take him."

"Okay, so why does Chris think he's a ghoul?" I asked.

"When he came to us, he was...lost. Any convincing we tried to do fell flat. We let him stick around and noticed his technical skills far surpassed our own."

"So, you just basically used him?"

"I believe the creator sent you and Chris to us to expiate the sins of your kind against mine. You are redeemers both."

"And what about Chris?" I asked.

"We will revere him as the Saint of the Great Journey. Here he comes now. I will be down on the platform. Chris, I want you to work with the wanderer. She and her friend will help you get what you need."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: Rock in a Hard Place

_So, it honestly took me by surprise when I found out Cass was 37 and Boone was 26. I definitely thought Cass was mid 20s and Boone was early 30s._

* * *

Chris marked the location of some "igniting agent 235" and thrust control modules. Both of which I'd need to help the rockets launch. The thrust control modules could probably be bought at a scrap yard, since REPCONN was picked over by scavengers so many times. He said to check around Novac, and I remembered the little old lady with all the dogs. The igniting agent would probably be in these radioactive ruins that he also marked.

"Well," I said, looking at Boone, "they're about the same distance away, just in two different directions."

"We could split up and each grab one thing."

"Okay," I nodded, "I'll go to the scrap yard. I'm good at talking to people, so maybe I can get a lower price on the modules. We'll meet each other back here. If you get back first, make a fire or something. It's late and I won't be able to see you otherwise."

"You'll be okay without me?" He asked, with what I could assume a bit of sarcasm.

"I'll send out a distress signal," I said as I began walking away.

It seemed like the air was getting colder, though it might've just been my imagination. The walk back to Novac took less time, it seemed. Maybe because I didn't have to kill anything. The scrap yard was just a few feet outside of Novac, and only as I went to knock on her door, did I realize that she would probably be asleep. Being a dick, I knocked anyways, not wanting to drag it out any further. It took her a minute, but she answered, surrounded by a couple of happy looking dogs.

"Uhm. Hi," I said, "I was looking for some old rocket thrust modules. I was told you might have 'em."

"I do. But they're expensive. 500 caps of expensive."

"What about 250?"

"Oh my, I couldn't do that. They're one of a kind!"

"But how many people are you gonna get looking for those? There's no market for them."

She ran her hands through her silvery hair and seemed to be thinking. After a minute, she disappeared into her house and returned with two large metal pieces. I couldn't make heads or tails of them, and for all I know, she could've duped me and sold me scrap metal. I stuffed them in my duffle bag and continued on.

By the time I got back, I could see a fire was made. So far, Boone seemed to always be ahead of me. And the smirk he was wearing when I got back made me think he was challenging me, whether he admitted it or not.

"What took you so long?" He asked as he folded up an old piece of paper and shoved it back in his pocket. There was a hint of sadness in his voice, and I briefly wondered if he was reading over the bill of sale I gave him earlier.

"Okay, so this IS a challenge?" I asked.

"Nah," he sounded truthful, "sitting up in that dinosaur all night, wanting to shoot anything that moves, made me wish I was back out here. Just wanted to see if I still had it in me. You know, all the action I saw in the NCR. I still got it, though."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get this over with, shall we?"

We climbed back down the ladder and into the work station above the launch pad. Chris was arrogant as always, berating us for being "smoothskins" and talking about how he was solely responsible for everything.

I look at Boone and he nodded. I turned back to Chris and had a bit of edginess in my voice, "Chris. Listen to me. If this is the only thing you do in life-"

"Nice try, Smoothskin. But I'm not listening."

I slammed him against the wall and got so close to his face, our noses were touching. With my free hand, I grabbed his arm and pushed the lab coat up. I waved him arm in front of his face.

"See this?" I hissed, "you see how fucking smooth it is, Chris? Now you will listen to me. Your face, your arms, and I'm sure everything else on you is smooth as babies. You. Are. A. Human. Not a ghoul. Your skin doesn't look like theirs. You're a human."

"I...I..."

"Did they tell you they're not taking you Chris? Did they? Did they tell you the radiation from the launch pad will kill you? Because you're human."

I could see the hurt in his eyes. I let him go, and his legs wobbled until he finally slid down the cool metal wall.

"Maybe you were too hard on him," Boone said quietly, but I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

I held my hand up to Boone and crouched down beside Chris.

"The human race thinks I'm a disgrace," he said, "they hate me."

"How do you know? You've been living with ghouls."

"I used to be a technician in my old vault. I drew the short stick and had to work on the reactor. My Pip-boy's built in Geiger counter always made noises near it. I figured I would start to turn into a ghoul. My hair started falling out, and at that point, I thought I was right. I thought I was turning into a ghoul. Everyone called me neurotic. I knew they wouldn't allow a ghoul to live in the vault, so I left. I've avoided humans since."

"There's a small town near here called Novac. Take my key. You can have my room. I already paid it up, and we won't be sticking around long."

"Life among humans?" He asked quietly, "I'm not sure that's a good idea..."

I held my hand out and help him up, "sure it is. Now, come on. We've got the components we discussed and they should be ready to launch."

There was a fire in Chris's eyes now. He looked wild, ready to pounce, "I should fucking sabotage their ships," he spat, "they used me."

"Chris...calm down. Think clearly about this. How would you feel if you killed all those ghouls?"

"Better than being used up and thrown away!"

"Breathe. Think. You do awesome work. They gave you a home when you couldn't find one. Killing them isn't the way to go."

He looked at the floor, then to me, and I saw him glance at Boone (who I just imagined was wearing an impassive face.) He seemed to struggle with the choice, and then he finally grabbed the igniting agent and the thrust modules from Boone and I. A ghoul was sent up to grab them from him, and he told Jason how to put them all in place over the intercom. Jason told us to start heading back to the second floor, where the launch button was. As we headed back upstairs, Chris said he was leaving for Novac. Jason was using an overhead intercom to express his thanks to all of us and that we redeemed the humans and blah blah blah.

As we neared the controls, I told Jason I was gonna hit the button. He started with his "praise be!" and "thank you, wanderer!" speech again. I hit the button mid-speech and walked away, not even looking over my shoulder to watch the rockets.

Convincing Chris he was human just felt like it...took a piece of me. I felt drained, and...lonely. My mom was the only real family I had left, and she was how far away. Dad died a couple years back, defending the village. Sure, the rest of the village was like a family, and as close knit as we all were, your parents and siblings took precedent over everyone else. And like I said before, traveling never let me keep relationships. Chris saying he was unwanted, reminded me of how I felt the same way sometimes, out here in the vast Wasteland.

"It must be almost two in the morning," Boone said.

I looked at my Pip-boy, "it's 2:38," I sighed. Despite waking up at eight, I was exhausted.

"Are you alright?" Boone asked.

I shrugged. I was afraid if I opened my mouth to tell him anything, I'd start crying. I hated crying, especially in front of people I don't know. I wanted to tell him, to get the feeling off my chest, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. So, I bit the inside of my cheek to take my mind off everything. It didn't work, but I thought it would. I just ended up biting my cheek harder and harder until I tasted blood.

"Maybe we should turn in for the night and start again in the morning?" I asked.

"Didn't you give your room to Chris?"

"Oh fuck!" I slapped my palm on my forehead.

"But didn't you take a keyring off Jeannie May?"

"Oh yeah. I have access to all the rooms now. How do I know of one is taken?"

"Knock first, I guess."

I knocked on a couple of doors, but no one was answering because it was so late at night. I sighed in defeat. Boone offered the bed at his house and he would use the couch. What a gentleman. I nodded reluctantly, I wasn't sure I was comfortable sleeping with a man I barely knew.

His house was pristine. Everything was so clean and...not used. The bed was made and looked like it hadn't been used in forever. There was a dent on the furthest left cushion of the couch right next to the door, and it fit Boone perfectly as he sat down. I took off my Pip-boy, unzipped my hoodie, threw off my leather vest and put the hoodie back on. Once underneath the covers, I slid my leather pants off and dropped them on the floor. I had offered the bed to Boone several times, but he denied it. Said he didn't sleep much anyway. I rolled over so my back was facing him, and I heard the crumple of paper. I was curious as to why he kept rereading the bill, but I thought it better to not ask. In the comfort of the bed, with large pillows and a down comforter, it didn't take long for my eyes to droop.

_ We were walking down the street, the road completely paved and houses perfectly built and not caved in. Garbage and metal didn't litter the streets, and there were actual gardens and green grass. People were actually clean, no dirt and grime. No one carried a gun. People took walks and children played...without fear. White picket fences surrounded homes. Boone was wearing a simple clean t shirt and jeans. He was clean shaven and his NCR beret and sunglasses were missing. I wore a plain white dress with a pink bow around the middle, which sat perfectly on top of a baby belly. I could feel it moving around, and I absentmindedly rubbed it. From across the cul-de-sac, Mom called us for dinner. Boone challenged me to a race and ran off. Of course he won, at that point I could only waddle at a semi-fast pace. Mom wore the same dress as I, just in a pale purple with a black bow. We sat down to eat, Mom saying a quick prayer, and Boone making faces at me as he held my hand under the table. I noticed both my mom and my tattoos were missing. I looked at each of them, but everyone was too preoccupied with eating._

_ As I went to put a spoonful of meat and vegetables in my mouth, a loud siren went off. I dropped the brown stew on myself, ruining my white dress. Boone grabbed both my mother and I, and we left the house. From the town hall where the sirens were still blaring, an automated message began playing; "bombs have been detected coming towards us. This is no drill. I repeat, this is no drill. Everyone evacuate the city immediately. The vault we are to enter is under the shack next to town. Do not panic, do not push. Do not run. Get there quickly and quietly. Thank you all for your cooperation." The message kept replaying as we headed out of town. _

_ The shack was just that. A shack with a hole in the ground. We all had to go down the ladder one at a time, obviously. From there, we walked through a cave for a bit and found a giant vault door, labeled "Vault 29." Another announcement began playing saying that the doors would shut in 30 seconds. People began to panic. Boone held tight onto my mother's hand and mine. Despite my shaking like a leaf, he remained sturdy and calm. My mother reached over and patted my belly. I panicked even more now. People were pushing, punching, running and tripping other people. Someone stumbled and collapsed into my stomach, and felt the breath escape me. It hurt down to my core, and suddenly, I noticed the baby, who was moving the whole time before, wasn't anymore. I felt warmth between my legs, thick and sticky. I had the urge to throw up. Boone rushed up, releasing both of our hands to throw the man aside. His eyes were red rimmed, and my eyes burned on the verge of tears. His hand tightened around mine, as I was getting light headed. _

_ 10 seconds until the door closed. I could no longer see my mother. I tried to ask Boone where she was, but I couldn't even hear myself over the sirens and screams. _

_ 5 seconds - we were almost there. A few more people pushed past us. I couldn't hold back anymore, and I vomited all over myself and the person in front of us. He turned around and balled his fist, but Boone caught it midair. We were so close to the door, we could touch it. I had Boone's hand in a death grip, but the door was shutting. There were too many people rushing towards us, still kicking and elbowing. Boone's hand slipped out of mine, and he was lost in the crowd. The door started to close. I was knocked down, and I sat there in defeat. Boone and my mother were still out there. I called for both of them, but no one answered. I didn't notice who it was, but someone picked me up and pushed me through the door. I was so close to being closed in it, I had to pull my feel up to my chin to avoid them being caught. I looked around; no Boone. No mom. I sat in my own blood, still not feeling any movement inside of me._

_ Three. That's how many people I lost. The only three I had to lose. I was sobbing so hard, I could barely catch my breath. There was pounding on the door. The earth above of us shook was a terrifying intensity. I could hear, almost feel the fire that licked the vault door. Then, everything was silent. Everything caught up to me, except my breath, and I passed out._

I woke up, drenched in sweat, still kicking and screaming. Boone sat up on the edge of the bed and asked if I needed anything.

"I...you're...you're alive?" I was shaking.

"What do you mean?"

"Where's Mom?" I asked. "She was with you!"

"Harley, I need you to calm down."

"No! Tell me where Mom is!"

He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me, "you're awake, Harley. You're awake."

The rest of the room slowly came into view; the couch with the dent in the cushion, a TV playing an old-world show about a housewife named Lucy, the cleanliness of the room. The feeling of loneliness was back again, and before I could stop myself, I shoved my head into Boone's chest and cried. His muscles went rigid, but he didn't move. I cried until I couldn't breathe and no more tears came out, and then I sobbed some more. _What the fuck? _I thought to myself, _I've known him for like twelve hours, why the fuck am I dreaming about him like that?_

"I'm...I'm sorry. I just..." I trailed off, not really focusing on anything but laying back down. Boone's eyebrows furrowed, and his shirt was drenched, but he sat there for what seemed like hours. I kept apologizing. The dream was so...vivid. I felt the man fall on my stomach, I felt the blood pool between my legs, and the cool metal floor of the vault. I felt it all. It was also the second time I dreamed my mother had died. I put a hand on my stomach, but it curved in as usual.

"Can I call you Craig?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Sure," he said in an unnaturally soft tone.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"26."

"How...how old were you when Carla got pregnant?"

"This is personal stuff you're asking."

"Sorry," I rolled over and tried to get comfortable. He still didn't leave my side.

"...I was 22. About to turn 23. I...when I found out, I knew at that moment I wasn't going to reenlist, but my tour was still a while away from being over."

"How...did you know she's dead?"

"Okay, enough question time. Get some more sleep." His soft tone was gone, and he got up and went over to the couch again.

"Craig?" The word felt strange. I only knew him for a day, but calling him by something other than Boone was...weird.

"Hm?" He was wiping his rifle down, checking it at every angle.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. If I slept, I'd be doing the same thing."

Something dawned on me. I'm not sure how, but I just knew. He killed Carla. He said she was sold to slavery, and he _knew_ she was dead, so he shot her to prevent that from happening. He probably relived it every night when he closed his eyes. I took a dare and asked him about my theory. He sighed, putting his head in his hands. Why am I making him do this?

"Yes. I followed them, and I found her being...auctioned. Like some kind of whore. Those Legion assholes were selling something no man has a right to. It was just my rifle and I, and lots of them. So I took the shot. I killed her and my baby. I'm a coward. Something tells me I could've saved them, but I was a coward..." His voice wavered, and I heard him choking back tears. I am such a fucking dick.

I got up and sat down beside him. I put my arms around him and drew him down to my chest, locking him in a hug. I patted his head and he sobbed and sobbed.

"I'm sorry," I said once again.

He lifted his head, "No. I needed that. No one ever wanted to talk to me about it. I told Manny, and I could tell he was glad. He never liked her. It's been pent up all this time. I'm glad to finally get it out. I've told two people. She's been dead 3 years and I've told two people."

"It's okay to hurt. It's normal. I'll be here. Just let me know if you need anything."

I laid back down, facing him the whole time. He never went back to his steely reserve, he instead just looked...worn out. He took off his glasses to rub his eyes, and for a brief moment, I saw the bags under them. Heavy and full of burden and worry. I wanted to cry for him, but it was all used up.

He went over and turned a dial on the TV. The housewife show that was on was replaced by a kid's show about a cat and mouse playing pranks on each other. I smiled and occasionally laughed to myself.

"I used to watch this all the time when I was little. My mom brought me all the holotapes of this show that she could find."

"How old are you?" He asked.

"23. Why? Does my liking this show make me immature?"

He smirked, "maybe a little."

* * *

_I did a little research and couldn't find Carla's death date or when she got pregnant or anything, so I just made that part up. If anyone knows, don't be afraid to correct me._


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: Birds of a Feather

_Someone leave me reviews. Constructive criticism, or just like 'i like this.' It's my first story I've ever gotten this far in, so I'd like to know what you think!_

* * *

I'm not sure when, but I did end up falling back to sleep. I rolled over and bumped into something. I immediately grabbed my 9mm, rolled of the bed and poked my head up enough to see what I was looking at.

Boone. Goddammit, he nearly gave me a heart attack.

I went to the bathroom and ran my under clothes and white shirt under water and cleaned them with some detergent Boone had sitting around. I put my hoodie and leather pants on and threw my washed clothes out in the sun. I didn't think it would take long, as sun was up and it was already hot as balls outside.

Compared to my motel room, Boone had relatively clean water. The bathroom was also clean, so I filled the tub up with some water and soaked. It felt good. I was only washing up what I could with a rag for a good while, and usually with dirty water. I sat in the tub until the warm water turned ice cold, and I continued sitting in it. There was a knock at the door, and from off the toilet lid, I grabbed my 9mm.

"Relax, it's just me," he said as though he heard me grab my gun.

I put it back and called out a "what?"

"Your clothes are dry."

"Okay." I didn't know what else to say - _come in here and see me naked?_ No. That's weird. "Just...leave them right outside the door," I said.

I heard him walk away, and I picked up a bottle and began scrubbing myself down. My head - which all of the stitches were gone now. It wasn't healed yet, but at least those damn itchy stitches were gone. I scrubbed everything. Behind my ears, my fingernails and toenails, my neck, my face, every inch of my body. And it felt so good.

Craig knocked on the door again, and I guess that was my cue to start getting dressed. My hair felt soft and tangle free. There was a pink bottle of stuff called "conditioner" that you used after washing your hair. Must've been Carla's.

I pulled my clothes on reluctantly and drained the now-black water. I kept my hair twisted in the towel, and emerged from the bathroom.

"How long have you been awake?" I asked.

"Since you rolled over and bumped into me."

"Why were you in bed with me?" I asked.

He held his hands up, "I was on top of the covers. It's been a while since I've slept in my own bed."

I looked down at my pruney fingers and wondered how long I had been in the bathroom. I tucked my hoodie in my duffle bag and slung it across my chest. I kept my 9mm in the back belt loop, and Romulus was in the holster on my back. Craig said he would hang behind while I talked to Manny.

I burst through the door at the top of the dinosaur, "I did what you asked. Now give me the info on Benny." I remembered what Boone told me about him being glad his wife was dead. He opened up to this asshole, who was supposed to be his best fucking friend, and he was glad.

"Whoa, hang on. I did notice there are no more ghouls. So I'll assume you did what I asked you to. They're heading to Boulder City."

I turned around and opened the door, "thank you. Oh, and this is for Craig," I turned around and put all my strength into my fist. I heard his nose crack and he stumbled backwards.

I took the steps down, two at a time. I said hello to Cliff, and slammed the door shut. I was just outside Craig's house, when I noticed Manny following me.

"What the fuck was that for?" He asked.

"Craig. Like I said."

"You know Boone for one whole day, and you think you can call him Craig? I don't even call him Craig and we toured together. In fact, the only one he let call him Craig was that wife of his." _That wife of his_.

"Yes...yes I can call him Craig, and I don't rightly give a fuck what that means to you. His wife was sold to Legion. He _himself_ put that bullet in her head because death is better than being a slave. He killed his wife and unborn child. So I think it's perfectly acceptable that he 'sulks,' as you put it. He put his trust in you, and you were glad she was dead? I don't care how much of a bitch you thought she was, but that doesn't make it okay."

Manny stared at me in complete disbelief. His jaw hung. Instead of punching him, I gave his cheek an open-palmed slap. Like a normal woman would've done.

"He's never told another person. Except you. She's been dead for three years, and he just keeps it in," and with that, I slammed the door in his face.

Craig stared at me expectantly. I'm not sure what he expected. I shrugged at him and threw myself down on the bed.

"For such a little lady, you throw a hard punch. Looks like his nose was shattered."

As I sat up, the towel I completely forgot about fell off my head and I was surprised. I probably looked like some sort of crazy woman, with a towel on my head, screaming at someone. I sighed. My track record wasn't the best, anyways.

He grabbed some ice out of his freezer and balled them in the towel. I put it on my knuckles.

"Craig?"

"Yes, Harley?"

"I...keep dreaming my mom has died."

"Have you visited her recently?"

"No...she's in Utah. My first dream, she was captured by the Legion. My second, you and her were locked outside the vault when the bombs fell."

"Me?"

"...yeah," I admitted sheepishly, "other than my mom, you're the only person I feel comfortable with." As much as I hated to admit it, it was true. I talked, he listened. It was simple, but it wasn't something I was used to.

"I've had...no one. Not since Carla."

I was usually good with people, but I couldn't think of anything to say. Tell him to move on? He'd probably stab me. Tell him I'd be there for him? He'd probably deny it. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out and I forgot to close it. He raised an eyebrow at me, and I stared at the ground. I decided to tell him about losing my dad. It wasn't like losing a lover and child, but maybe he'd understand.

"I...lost my dad a couple years back. That's why I picked up this courier job, so I can send money back to mom. He died defending our little...village."

"You're a tribal?" He asked.

"Yeah," I scratched the back of my head, "I mean...I don't wear face paint and throw spears..." Actually, that's the exact opposite. I'm _really_ good at throwing things (like spears,) and I do smear blood on my face all the time.

"I wasn't trying to be demeaning. I've never met a tribal, that's all. I noticed your mark. They're kind of rare out here. But you did try to smear Jeannie May's blood on my face, and you did smear it on your own."

"Yeah. My tribe was the WolfPaws. She was your kill, so that was your honor. I just helped out, so I figured I deserved a little glory," I smiled weakly, "anyways, yeah. We live in little shacks. My mom teaches at a small school we set up, teaching kids to read and write, and telling them about our ancestors. We do a lot of farming and living off the land. Making herbal remedies. Our doctors are called healers. We're very superstitious. Only the working folk wear actual clothes. Most of us wore almost nothing at all. Or fancy robes. Anyways, a neighboring tribe attacked. They claimed we bewitched their soil and took the nutrients. _That's _tribal as shit. But our tribe was raised more like a town, and we tried to reason with them. My dad was our Chief, but he talked to them about splitting crops with them. We talked about helping them with their soil. They attacked my dad when no one else was around to help him. Bashed his head off a rock. You could just see my mom's heart breaking. She became the Chief then. She despised the job title more than anything else."

"I'm sorry," he said. It sounded sincere, and he brought his eyes up to meet mine.

I almost couldn't look away, but it was one in the afternoon and we hadn't accomplished anything yet. Boulder City was off to the right on the main road out of Novac. It was a good while away, so better to get started sooner.

We were quiet most of the way. Boone wasn't much for talking, and I needed to sort some feelings out. I had just met this man, why am I opening up to him so quickly? I told him my name, agreed to help him find out about his dead wife, and even punched his ex best friend's nose in. Not to mention that strange dream.

"When I said I wasn't good at throwing spears, that was...kind of a lie," I said after an unbearable silence.

I saw a smirk at the corner of his mouth, "you're probably better with throwing knives than you are a gun."

"Are you saying I can't shoot?"

"No," he replied briskly.

We dealt with a few geckos on the way. A few raiders. Nothing exciting. We passed Helios One. I didn't wanna get too close, on account of people asking me to do stuff for them, but I did wanna check out what all the hub-bub was about. I kept my eyes forward, not realizing my hands were clenched into fists until Boone pointed it out.

"I...I didn't notice," I said truthfully. I may have done it subconsciously. The NCR makes me so mad sometimes, but I wasn't going to tell the First Recon that.

"Was it Helios One?"

"...I just..."

"You what?"

I shook my head and kept walking. There was another uncomfortable silence, and I couldn't think of how to break it. I had already done too much talking about myself, and I'm sure he didn't care. Asking him questions seemed to make him tense up, so that was outta the question.

"Look at that rock. That's a nice fuckin' rock," I said in attempt to make lame conversation.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him raise his eyebrow, but that was the last of our communication until we hit Boulder City. There was a giant plaque in front of the city with all of the names of fallen soldiers from the Battle of Boulder City. I shook my head. Pointless. They all died, and for what? A noble sacrifice to take out maybe half as many Legion members? Give me a break. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose and I walked around the caved in city, looking for an entrance.

There was an NCR officer outside of a door made of sheet metal. He sat at a table with a ham radio and an NCR radio on it. He stood as we approached and saluted to Boone. Boone nodded in response.

"I'm sorry, but there's a hostage situation. We can't allow anyone in." He held his hand up.

"I'm sorry, what's your rank and name?"

"Lieutenant Monroe, ma'am. What's your business here?" I saw him looking over me and at Boone.

"I was told someone I'm looking for might be here. I can diffuse the situation better than NCR, since I'm an outsider."

"Perhaps. The Great Khans have captured two privates and are holding them hostage. We can't get any word in or out."

"I'll check it out."

"If something happens, it's your ass. The Khans are a dangerous group," he said as he opened the door for me.

I entered the area with my hands up and my weapons holstered. A few NCR soldiers nodded towards the only building left standing at the far end of the ruins. I knocked on the door before entering, and behind a counter, there was a man whose visage pulled at the corner of my brain, but I couldn't figure out why.

"Holy shit! You're that courier from Goodsprings! Benny wasted you and buried you! How the fuck-"

"Where's Benny?" I hissed, pulling my own gun out, despite the one pointed at me.

"Benny? That snake ditched us before paying us our half of the money. I knew the caps were too good to be true..."

"So he isn't fucking here?!" I yelled.

"No. But if you're planning on killing him, here's his lighter. Shove it up his ass when you catch up to him."

I took the lighter from the Khan with the orange Mohawk and slapped my palm to my face. Fuck. Square one. Again.

"Do you know if he still has the platinum chip?" I asked, exhaustedly.

"Yeah. He went back to The Tops."

"Benny? Of The Chairmen? That's the Benny we're tracking down?" Boone asked.

I was clueless, "chairman? What?"

"He's one of the big head honchos that House contracted to help run New Vegas."

I sighed. Of course he was some big-name. I turned to the Khans, "let the NCR troopers go."

"And have them kill me? No fucking thanks."

"The NCR are honorable," I said with distaste, as I knew not all of them were, "and they'll honor a deal. You let the troopers go, they'll let you walk. Sound fair?"

"Fine."

They cut the ropes on the hostages' hands and they eagerly ran from the building. I advised them to wait inside until I gave them a signal. Before I even shut the metal door, the LT said he got word from brass, and he was to take out the Khans, hostages or not.

I felt something burning inside of me. My eyes focused hard on him, "you will let the Khans go. They honored their end of the deal and let the hostages go, untouched. Now you honor your end."

"I cannot go against orders. I'm to take them out."

"If you're a man of integrity, you will not order them to be slaughtered."

"This isn't about my integrity."

I reached for the 9mm in my belt loop, but before I could draw it, I was tackled to the ground.

"Murderers! You fucking murderers!" I yelled, spitting up blood. The impact on the ground caused me to tear a hole in my tongue, and my mouth kept pooling with blood. Boone was sitting on my chest, his muscular frame heavy on my tiny body. I bucked and thrashed, but to no avail.

"Never pull a gun on the NCR," he said quietly.

"Fuck you! They'll murder them! Just like Bitter Springs!"

For a second, Boone looked startled, and my hand slipped out of his grasp, and I took the time to land a blow on his stomach. The punch did nothing though, because apparently he has abs of steel. I could feel my one wrist already bruising where he held it tightly. I laid there and did nothing but listen as a wave of gunfire washed over the inside of the city. I kicked and thrashed and punched even more, but nothing worked. I laid there and cried until my tear ducts were dry. It was a good while, too, because I noticed the sun setting behind us.

"Are you done?" He asked quietly.

"Why didn't you say anything? You just let them be murdered!"

"You're the one who's good at convincing people. Besides, you were going to murder someone to save some...Khans?"

I noticed how he said the word "Khans." Like the word itself had a bad taste coming out. "Better to save ten than one. You got something against the Khans?" I asked.

"They...just...never mind."

"They're tribals, is that it? They live in huts and have rituals and a chief? That it?" I said, angrily.

I could see the hurt in his eyes, like what I was accusing him of thinking was true, and he was ashamed. He stood up and began walking the direction we came in and scooping his rifle up in one swift motion. I grabbed my duffle bag and 9mm off the ground and chased after him. I ran in front of him, blocking his view.

"Please, stop. Please. We have differences. Everyone does. I have some convictions against the NCR and you have some convictions against tribals. I want you to keep traveling with me, Craig," I pleaded. _ What's wrong with you?_ I asked myself.

He took of his glasses, and his eyes were a soft green, highly accented by the even darker-than-before bags underneath them. I stared at him for a minute, trying to understand his pain.

"I only took up traveling with you, because I saw it as a means to an end."

I lowered my eyes at him, "what could you mean by that?" I asked as we began walking towards Vegas.

"I figured I'd be able to kill more Legion out here than in the dinosaur. I figured I'd eventually kill so many, they'd come after me and I'd lead a suicide mission into a big group on them."

My stomach twisted, "so you basically came with me to kill yourself?"

"I didn't come with you because you're some...'hot piece of ass'. I didn't come with you to be your buddy while you hunt down Benny. I belong to Carla, and Carla alone. So don't think about getting too chummy."

"I...Craig. How can you think like that?"

"You take out a debt, it's only a matter of time before someone comes collecting."

"You're punishing yourself because of what happened to Carla?" I asked.

"Among other things that have happened."

I decided to press, "What other things?" My mind flashed back to his surprised look when I mentioned Bitter Springs.

He didn't answer.

"You think Carla would want you killing yourself?"

"Fuck you, you didn't know her."

"But I know enough about love to know that if I were Carla, I'd want you to move on."

He stopped dead in front of me, "you fucking think you know everything. You're just a kid. You're some fucked up kid living in this fucked up world," he was walking towards me, making me pedal back, "you don't know about love. You may know something about life, but you don't know the answers," I was now pinned between the wall and Boone, his face not even an inch from mine. He put both hands on either side of me, and I could feel his hot breath on my face as he continued with his barrage of words, "you talked about losing your dad, but it sounded to me like you guys weren't even close. It was so passive. You talk about how worried about your mom you are, and yet, here you are in the fucking Mojave Wasteland, instead of looking after your mother."

The air was feeling tight, like in my dream the other night. I gasped to bring in air, but all I could smell was Boone. His sweat, his breath, him. I felt like I was suffocating. "My mother can damn well take care of herself," I choked out.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. With her throwing spears and healing remedies?"

I mustered in all the strength I could, and I pushed him. He lost his footing and began to tumble to the ground, "Fuck you!" I yelled, pouncing on top of him. Before I even landed, he successfully flipped me over and pinned me down. Again. I bared my teeth and growled at him, but yet again, the thrashing and kicking did nothing.

"You might be experienced, but you weren't properly taught. I might suggest you stick to your gun before doing hand-to-hand," he said, scoldingly.

"Fuck you," I yelled back at him, "you have no reason to insult my people. None."

"You've insulted the NCR. They are my people!"

"You wanna hear me insult the NCR? Because I can. I haven't said one percent of what I think of them in front of you. I don't fucking say anything because it's not my fucking place, you dickhole," I growled more at him, bucking my hips against him. He stayed firmly planted. I weighed maybe 95 pounds, soaking wet, at five foot, six inches. He was a head and a half taller than me, and his muscles alone probably weighed more than I did. He was clenching my forearms instead of my wrists this time, and his large hands more than completely circled around them.

"What do you have against the NCR?"

"Well, I know firsthand how corrupt the 'brass' is," I tucked away the unwanted memories, and the words burned in my throat, "Not to mention, they're expanding too fast. They can't cover this much territory. They don't have the supplies, the troopers, or the caps for anything. The recruits aren't getting any training before they're given a rifle and sent onto the battlefield. They're basically using recruits to buy them time. Sacrificing them to Caesar, so his Legionnaires have something to do other than attack the Dam. It's fucking disgusting. Do you know how many kids I've seen running around, no older than 16, carrying the regularly issued service rifle and not know the stock from the barrel? That's what you support? Kids dying? Not to mention, the NCR is trying to stake a claim in everything they see, whether there were people there first or not, and whether people want them there or not. _Some _of the NCR may have good intentions, but they aren't going about it the right way."

After a while, he got off of me and held his hand up to help me up. I pushed it away and grabbed my things off the ground. I began walking towards The Strip, Boone always a few feet behind. Though I couldn't see him, I imagined that he had his rifle at the ready, scanning vigilantly with an impassive look on his face.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve: Beautiful Tragedy

_Just wanted a short chapter in_ _Boone's point of view._

* * *

**Boone**

I kept my distance from her, I knew she was upset with me, and I suppose she had every right to be. The look on her face when I pinned her against the wall...it looked like she couldn't breathe. I should've let up right there, but it's been a good while since I've had anyone busting my balls the way she was. Maybe an emotion other than guilt and grief was what I needed to feel. She also said she knew firsthand how corrupt the brass was. I wanted to ask her what she meant, but the hurt in her eyes told me to stay off the subject.

She kept her shotgun, which she insisted on calling Romulus, always at the ready, but holstered it when we got close to the 188 Trading Post. It was a much shorter walk from Boulder City to here than Novac to Boulder City. There were a few merchants milling about, a small shack set up as a bar, and underneath us was this kid sitting all by himself in front of some odds and ends. Harley bought ammo and bottled water. Asked the merchant if there was anywhere she could fill empty bottles. The merchant shook her head.

We took a seat at the bar, placing space between us. I ordered a beer, and whatever Harley was having. She shook her head at the bartender and glared down at me. With every sip of alcohol, I was beginning to get more and more upset with myself for attacking her like that. She's just a girl, doing what she can to survive. Who am I to say she doesn't know what love or life was? I had already gotten Carla pregnant when I was her age. I was on leave at The Strip, and I noticed her admiring Vault 21. She told me her parents thought an old restored vault was beneath them and they didn't want Carla staying there, but she still took an interest in it, anyway. She was short, about as tall as Harley, and her hair was dark brown and curly. It came down to her shoulders and would bounce whenever she took a step. As soon as I looked into her eyes, I knew I loved her. We spoke a whole five words to each other, and this was the woman I would marry. She had a round face, and full lips. Her eyes were the kind of brown that seemed to sparkle.

After that, we were inseparable. Her parents took a liking to me because I was part of the NCR. Oddly enough, they didn't care that I didn't have a cap to my name. Carla was always so full of spirit and fight, that it just bubbled out of her, and Harley reminded me a lot of her. Harley's words echoed in my head; _"you think Carla would want you killing yourself?"_ The answer was no, as painful as it was to admit. I didn't want to feel anything anymore, and for the most part, I didn't. I blocked every emotion I could possibly restrain. I didn't allow myself to look at attractive women; I still retained the notion that Carla and I belonged to each other. I took quick glances at Harley, but I never lingered, the guilt only hitting worse when I did. The only emotions I let free were guilt and grief. Those were the only two I was worthy of anymore. Not to mention, Bitter Springs constantly replaying when I fall asleep. How do I live with myself after that? I killed innocent men, women, and children as they tried escaping. They were unarmed. Most were too sick, too young, or too old to fight. And I just blindly followed orders…

I caught Harley staring at me, a bottle of water in her hands. She didn't say or do anything. She just sat there staring, and for some reason that just made me even more angry. Maybe because I didn't allow myself to look as freely as she did? She asked the bartender if there was anywhere she could crash for the night, and he pointed at a row of tents.

"It's 20 caps a night. There are two bedrolls and two footlockers in each tent."

"Perfect," she said, handing him the caps and slinking down the road towards the tents. I allowed myself a quick look, admiring her long, red hair and her small, but muscular frame. I glanced down to admire the rest of her, and her hips were swaying as though she knew I was watching. Guilt slammed back into my chest. I fought back the feeling of guilt, and although it only subsided a bit, I continued staring. She was gorgeous. I didn't have the words to describe her. She had a small, heart shaped face, and dark green eyes. They were the color you could see across the room and they accented perfectly by her red hair. Her lips were small, but full and her nose was tiny, and pointed. The more I looked, the better I actually felt.

I counted out the caps I owed the bartender, and remembering which tent she entered, I quickly followed. I flung open the flap, and she was sitting on a bedroll with her back towards me. She was already undressed, only wearing her bra and underwear. She had her thick red hair pulled into a bun of the side of her head (the side that wasn't shaven, obviously.) I stared at her mostly bare back, almost completely covered in scars. On her shoulder, she had a weird symbol etched into her skin. It was like a V over an upside down V with a line vertically through the middle. In the two spaces where the Vs overlapped, there were three letters. A capital H on the left side, and a WP on the other side.

"I didn't buy a room for you, too," she said exhaustedly, her muscles tensing.

I sat down on the footlocker at the end of her bedroll so we were facing each other. Seeing her in her underwear sparked something in my stomach. My muscles clenched, and I thought back to Carla. My stomach immediately unclenched and an even worse feeling of guilt washed over me. How dare I look at someone else? No. I would not allow the guilt to ruin me. If Carla were still alive, we probably wouldn't even still be together. I tried to push the emerging pictures out of my brain, to tuck then back into the corner I never thought I'd venture back into. Nevertheless, it began it's unwanted assault.

Carla was throwing something at me. It was a blur, so I couldn't get a good look at it. I ducked, and whatever it was shattered off the wall behind me. She was yelling, her face was beat-red and her voice getting shriller by the second. She dumped dresser drawers on the bed, and began hastily throwing things in a suitcase. I tried to calm her down, but like I said before, she was a firecracker. I was worried all the straining would hurt the baby, but she kept going at it.

It was that night she was sold into slavery. That night that my bullet entered her head and stopped that from happening. I should've never convinced her to leave The Strip and it's security. This would've never happened. She was leaving me. Said we needed a break from each other. She said I was too obsessed with the NCR...that I was keeping secrets and I'd never take care of them like I should be able to. I didn't tell her about Bitter Springs...I couldn't find the right time to bring it up. _Oh, hey, this dinner's delicious. By the way, I killed helpless kids, old, and sick people last week as they tried escaping. _ No. She said she was going back to her parents.

I took my beret and sunglasses off, and rubbed my face.

"Letting go isn't the same as forgetting," I said, more to myself. I saw Harley nod, and I continued, "Carla_ wouldn't_ want me to kill myself. You're right about that."

"I doubt she would want you to punish yourself by being miserable all the time, too. In my tribe, the greatest way to remember someone is to let go. You can still be upset. You can still remember them, and love them. But it is a great honor to move on. It shows you are strong in a time of darkness."

Letting go wasn't the same as forgetting. But would I allow myself that peace? Even if I did, the memory of Bitter Springs would still haunt me as well.

"How did you know about Bitter Springs?" I asked, quietly.

"There are Great Khans all over the place. Not just here, but in California, Utah, Texas...we're good friends with them, and mostly all the Khans around are related somehow. It's like a big family, and word gets around." She grabbed a blanket off the ground and began tucking herself in. She, being so small that her ribs and hips stuck out, she had larger-than-I-expected breasts. Maybe a good handful.

I slapped my hand to my face and shook my head, "do you find it necessary to undress in front of people?"

She looked at me with disgust. She knew I was looking, but I think she was more upset by the fact that I accused her of something she didn't do. Which I immediately regretted.

"I was already undressed when you rudely barged in here. We wear little to no clothes at home, so _maybe I am a bit more comfortable in my bra and underwear_. At least you have more control than most men."

I eyed her warily, and felt another twitch in my gut. She was beautiful, I'll give her that. Letting go...not the same as forgetting, I repeated. I took a risk and looked Harley in the eyes, "I think you're beautiful."

She blushed. I could tell she wasn't expecting it, and she stammered out a "thank you." She probably had more recent experience than I did, and she was the one who couldn't keep her voice straight? I let a smirk play on my lips.

"Are...you laughing at me?" She asked.

"Just at how nervous that statement seemed to make you."

"Last time an NCR soldier told me I was beautiful...bad things happened," she whispered the last part and the fear was back in her eyes.

I wanted to reach out and touch her. Just hold her. Feel her skin against mine. Have her tell me every secret she kept hidden, even from herself. Talking about Carla helped a lot more than I thought it would, and I actually wanted to have social interaction with someone. More than that, I wanted to touch this beautiful woman beside me, tell her everything was alright. I slept beside her last night because it was calming to have someone else around. I had slept longer and deeper than I have in a while. My intentions were not at all sexual. I just wanted...human comfort.

The way she cried into my chest this morning was...comforting. It felt nice to have someone come to me in a time of need. On the other hand, I hurt her more times that I could count today, and I felt like a dick. I saw the bruises on her wrist and both forearms where I held her back from attacking me. Before anything could happen between us, I needed to take time to myself.

_Moving on is not the same as forgetting_, I said to myself.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen: It's Been a While

**Harley**

The way Boone stared at me made me wary. Sure, I liked when guys stared, but it was like he was having an argument with himself. It almost hurt to watch. He needed some kind of release, and I watched him as he sat on the footlocker, trying to look away. Trying to think of something to say. He rubbed the scruff on his chin and sighed. Though he said he was only 26, it looked like there was some gray mixed in with the black. Like he was making himself old. Maybe if I stuffed his head in my cleavage, he'd loosen up. Or snap my neck.

I really shouldn't be thinking about him like that. Not after he insulted my family and village. Not after he told me about his wife and kid. I felt dirty. I watched him as he got up and walked over to the other bedroll. I sat up to get a better look as he took his shirt off and the blanket fell down, exposing my bra. He was defined – large pecs and a six pack. And oh my…that v leading down into his pants. He's even got one of those 'happy trails.' Mmm. I rested back on my elbows and chewed on my lip. This was the only time I've ever held sleeping with someone. Partially because of his wife, and partially because I _didn't want to fuck and leave._ Which really fucking terrified me to admit.

He turned around, and my eyes darted somewhere else, but my cheeks turned so super red, I can almost guarantee I was radiating heat. '_Don't get too chummy'_ replayed in my head. But dear God, was he gorgeous. _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. He's walking over here._ He looked angry, like he was ready to pounce and my heart started hammering in my throat.

"I…I need your help," He said, "I want to move on…but not forget."

He sat down on the bedroll beside me and put his arm across my stomach. His face was inches from mine, and I so badly wanted to kiss him. I rubbed my nose against his – my dad used to call them "Eskimo kisses." Not that I know what an Eskimo is, but it sounds interesting. I saw him smile, like he could tell what I was thinking. His other hand slipped under me and rubbed my back, melting all the tension away. I closed my eyes, and I felt his lips on the scar on my temple. Again, my cheeks turned bright red and I buried my face in the crook of his arm and we sat like that for hours until I fell asleep.

I woke up, freezing cold in the pitch black tent. It was three in the morning, and Boone was nowhere in the tent. _His rile is missing, too,_ I thought to myself, throwing my clothes on. I grabbed Romulus and ran out of the tent. He wouldn't just leave in the middle of the night without telling anyone, right? My heart started pounding, and my fingers were numb from the cold. I cursed myself for not grabbing my hoodie. Asking around at the bar got me a lead. There was a Legion raiding party heading towards the Trading Post. Boone was, of course, the first to rush in.

_Fuck. Fuuuuuck. I'm usually a light sleeper. How the fuck did he get up, get dressed and leave without me noticing? _I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, and in the distance, I heard gunfire. When I got close, I pulled Romulus up and fired two shots, watching two bursts of blood explode from 'crimson sports gear' before reloading. I could see Boone taking position behind a rock, and out of my peripheral, I saw a large man in all tin armor, running at me. He had a sledge that was as long as I was tall, and he swung it around like it weighed nothing. I ducked just in time, and I heard a shot ping off of the ridiculous-looking armor. Being so small meant I had great agility, thankfully. I rushed to his other side as he swung at me again. He missed and lost his balance. Jumping on his back, I ripped the helmet with the red Mohawk from his head and quickly rolled out of the way. A shot rang out, but I didn't notice if it hit the giant of a man or not, because he was still going. I pulled my gun up in time to pop off a shot, but it only clipped him in the cheek. I cursed at myself as the man let out a war cry that sounded like a bellow. He looked pissed – he threw his sledge down and began running at me. It was almost impossible to get away from him – as I jumped out of the way, he grabbed me by the leg and dragged me towards him, crushing me into his chest.

"Did you really think you could attack one of Caesar's Centurion? You? A pathetic little girl?" His voice was smooth, like chocolate (if you know what that is) and for whatever reason, it was intimidating.

I spit in his face, "How's that for 'little girl?'" _God, I could pass for a five year old._

He brought his large, armored hand up and clenched it around my throat. I began clawing at it, and the struggle left me breathless. My head began to feel airy, and I was seeing stars. I felt like I was going to vomit. Everything was hurting, and the world starting getting dark. It took a second, but I realized I was in the sand. I threw up all over the ground, again and again. Nothing worked – my arms just laid there. My legs weren't listening. I closed my eyes again, just for a second. Boone's hands were all over me, he was yelling my name, slapping my face. The world kept coming in and out of view and before I knew it, we were in the tent again.

He made me drink a ton of water, and found some ice to put on my already swollen throat. My head was resting in his lap – "elevation is necessary," he said – and my throat still burned.

"Why did you leave?" My voice was little more than a squeak and my throat was really unhappy that I was talking.

"They said they spotted a Legion raiding party. I wanted to help…didn't think you'd follow."

"I'm a light sleeper. You should've told me you were leaving…you really worried me," I admitted.

"I'm sorry," He mumbled, almost like he wasn't there. I knew he had something else on his mind – Carla, and the pledge he made himself to kill every Legion member he could.

I woke up with a gasp (_holy shit, when did I fall asleep?)_ most of the reason being that our tent was sweltering hot (I'm going to attribute some of the reason to my throat almost being crushed.) Like, I woke up in a puddle of my own nasty sweat; my hair was stuck to my back, neck and forehead. Boone was already awake and dressed, with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. As soon as I got dressed, we set off. Well, we were going to, until a woman in brown robes covering her head-to-toe called us over.

"I noticed you two traveling around. Where do you come from?" She asked.

"I'm Harley, from Utah. This is Craig Boone. He's from the town of Novac."

"Call me Boone," he said quickly.

"I'm Veronica, and I live in a hole in the ground."

"A hole?" I asked.

"Well, it's a bunker, but it sounds more interesting my way."

"Hang on…those robes. You said you live in a bunker? You're not affiliated with the Brotherhood of Steel, are you?"

A look of worry flashed across her eyes, and she nodded carefully as she glanced up at his beret, "Yes. But…I understand your people and my people don't get along. It's nothing personal. I don't hate you because of our struggle with the NCR. Right?"

I shot Boone a warning look and he just shrugged at her. Mr. Silence strikes again! Now with more shoulder shrugging action!

"So where are you heading?" She asked.

"The Stip. Gonna stir up some trouble," I smiled.

"Ooh, trouble is my specialty. Mind if I tag along?"

"You don't even have any weapons on you…" Boone said.

A mischievous smirk spread across her face, and with a blur, she ran past us, punching a picnic table into splinters before I even noticed what she was doing. People backed away and gave her awkward looks.

"Aha. A power fist," Boone nodded.

"And I'm good with technology. If you don't have passports, I can hack into the securitrons guarding the gate. They'll let us right through!" She looked proud of herself.

I nodded, "Of course you can come with us."

"Great! Lemme go grab my things!" She said as she stood there and stared at us with a completely straight face, "I don't actually have anything to grab," She said after a few seconds.

We set off for real this time, making it a good piece before anyone spoke up to make conversation.

"There's a massive black and blue handprint on your throat," Boone said as he reached up to touch it.

I flinched back, "Sorry. It still hurts."

"Oh yeah," Veronica piped up, "I noticed that fight between you guys and the Legion. You really kicked their asses."

"That's what I do best," I smiled at her.

I noticed that instead of being beside me, or behind me, Boone was always a few steps in front in some sort of protective stance. Veronica was off to my left and she gave me a questioning look. I shrugged at her. Before either Veronica or I noticed anything, Boone fired two shots. In the distance, I saw two raiders drop. Two more came out of a side alley, and Veronica punched the one so hard, his head _literally_ exploded. It was mesmerizing. I popped off a shot at one coming out of another building as Veronica dropped another victim.

"You're an awesome shot," She complimented Boone.

"Was a first recon," he said shortly, "we're the best shots around."

"Hats off to you, sir," she said and mock saluted him.

I saw a hint of anger in his eyes, and I steered him away from Veronica by his elbow, like a child. He needed to calm down, and as much as I wanted him to do that, he wouldn't.

"Let's not go around pinning down every person we see," I hissed at him under my breath, "some people admire the NCR, and some don't. Didn't we have a talk about differences a couple of nights ago?"

"Why were you so upset about the Khans back at Boulder City?" He asked.

"I just…imagine if it were my mom or dad back there. The Khans we have back at home are our neighboring tribe, and they're our closest friends. We have an honor system…have you seen the tattoo on my shoulder?" I asked.

"Oooh, things getting spicy?" Veronica asked.

I ignored her, "The symbol means I'm the daughter of a chief. In Utah, the tribes take deaths seriously. Whoever would find the body would dress it in their tribe's finest robes and silks, personally carry the body back to their tribe. The tribe of the person who found the body would offer crops, bless our crops and then hold a ceremony for us. The Khans that died back there…it's an absolute disgrace that I didn't at least bury the bodies."

Boone opened his mouth to speak, but Veronica beat him to it, "Oh my god! I was wondering if you were a tribal! I saw the tattoo and I thought I was just making things up – but I was right! I've never met an honest to goodness tribesperson…other than the Khans, of course."

Boone stepped between us, and looked down at me, "I was unaware. I would've respected...your codes."

"Yeah. Believe it or not, tribals _do_ have a sense of honor. We have to go back and bury them. Not now. But eventually."

Boone lit up a cigarette as we stopped in front of a gate whose letters said "Freeside" in all different colors, sizes and shapes of letters. It looked like someone just scavenged random letters to make a sign. I took the cigarette from his lips and flicked it on the ground, "Shit'll kill you," I waved a finger. He shrugged. As we pushed the gate open, there were a few men seated around a table. Two of them were arm-wrestling and the third sat, looking bored. There was a chessboard underneath the guys' arms. We passed by quietly, but someone just _had _to say something.

"Got a First Recon guy with you?" He asked, "That must be nice for protection, but can he protect you _and_ give you what you really want?" The guys at the table laughed as he stalked over. I was unsure whether or not he was talking to Veronica or I, either way, there was no reason to be a douche canoe. He had on this obnoxious metal armor that made clanging noises with every step. His black hair was greasy and unkempt, as was his beard. He breezed past Veronica and grabbed my hand. I flinched back and kicked his legs out from underneath him.

The guys at the table laughed again, and the man's cheeks turned red. He lunged at me, but I moved away – his metal armor significantly slowing him down. I moved away from another lunge. And another. It happened a few more times until he called me a cunt. I took the butt of my gun and slammed it into his temple.

The men at the table gasped, so I bowed at them. Boone sighed and Veronica nearly leapt out of her clothes with excitement. It was a straight shot. From here, right to The Strip. My heart began pounding in my chest and throat, and I tried to breathe steady. I was going to kill that bastard. But first, I needed a small knife. Something really sharp and really easy to hide.

We went to Mick and Ralph's. Boone bought some more ammo, and I looked around. Swords, guns, power fists, spiked knuckles…I sighed.

"Do you know someone who would sell a small hunting knife? Needs to be small enough to hide," I said.

"We have a hunting knife with a sheath somewhere around here…" Mick said, searching for it. He left the room for a bit and talked to Ralph. They nodded at each other, and he came back with a small black box. _Super shady_, I thought to myself. Inside the box was a hunting knife. The blade was four-inches long and maybe an inch wide. It curved ever so slightly and the point was incredibly sharp. It looked pristine.

"How much?" I asked.

"I'll tell you what. Normally, it would be 350 caps. You look like a girl on a mission though, so I'll say 260."

Perfect, because that's about all I had on me. I grabbed the knife and tucked it deep in my boot. I had it deep enough that when I pulled the knife by the handle, the sheath stayed in my boot. I smiled wickedly.

"Let's get this show on the road, boys," I said to them as we headed towards the gate.

The securitrons immediately stopped us, and Veronica walked up to the first one and yelled some sort of code at it. The screen went blank on all of the ones around, and she began punching a code in on the keyboard. I raised my eyebrow at Boone and he shrugged. She yelled at us to start running, and I noticed all of the securitrons were sort of slumped over, with black screens.

"I'm sure Mr. House noticed someone playing with his securitrons. We'll have to have a passport next time, because I'm sure he would've changed the code."

Well, at least we were on The Strip for now. Everything looked so…clean. It was practically untouched by the war, and the only thing wrong with the buildings was that they weren't being maintained. 200 years of not being touched up, and you'd start falling apart, too. It was around seven, and even though the sun had barely started sinking, the bright lights and all of the activity gave the city an unparalleled beauty.

A securitron rolled up to us, and I thought _Oh shit, this is the end for us_. The police face flickered over to Victor's face and his cowboy drawl greeted us.

"I was wondering when you'd get here, slow poke!" He made fun.

"Victor! It's good to see you!"

"The head honcho, Mr. House, wants to make your acquaintance. You shouldn't keep him waiting. It'd be downright rude."

"Okay, Victor. We'll be over soon."

The face jumped back to the policeman's and I turned around to set off for The Tops. My palms began to sweat, and for some reason, I wanted to turn around and run. Boone, Veronica and I could find a safe place to hide and live happily ever after.

Then I thought about the night up on the hill. The way he shot me in the head for the poker chip. The way the Khans died because he left them there. I felt the anger flaring back up. I told Boone and Veronica this was something I had to do on my own. Yell for help. It wasn't subtle, but I needed them to stay back, but linger near, if that made sense.

I burst through the door and the greeter started saying something. I slammed my duffle bag and guns on the counter, "It all better be here when I come back," I narrowed my eyes.

The guy behind the desk's eyes went wide, but he nodded. I felt the lighter in my back pocket digging into my skin. The knife was rubbing uncomfortably on my ankle. I tapped a guard's shoulder and asked where I could find Benny.

"He should be in his suite, doll."

"And how do I get there?"

"…You one of Benny's girls?" He eyed me warily. I wasn't dressed like what he was implying. _Okay, think of something real quick-like_.

"I mean, I guess. He wanted a guard that was female, too, if you catch my drift," I said, putting on my most seductive voice.

"That damn Benny is always doing something stupid," he sighed, "Take the elevators at the end of the hall to floor 13. His room is 37, big double doors. Can't miss 'em."

"Thank you," I smiled. _ I can't believe that worked. It actually fucking worked._

The Chairman went back to whatever he was doing and Veronica and Boone followed me very un-discreetly down the hall. I was waiting for the elevator to come down as they lingered at the end of the hallway. There was a dinging noise, and I went to enter, only to see Benny exiting.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen: The Killer Inside

"What the _fuck_?" The look on his face was priceless. I grabbed him and quickly threw him back in the elevator.

"Hello, Benny," I purred.

"Let's keep this on the groove, eh? Smooth moves, like smooth little babies."

I pouted, "You ran off so fast, I never got your name. Had to get it from someone else."

"You making a pass at me, sister? 'Cause I'm outta your league."

"Is it wrong of me to want someone who had shot me in the head?" I faked innocence.

"Did that bullet scramble your brain, or have you always been a naughty broad?"

"I'm one of those girls who likes a bad boy, and you've been downright awful," I pulled on his tie.

"Girl, you are one sick pussycat. There's quins and then there's...you. I'm not sure what to call you."

"I'm saying I dig you, despite what you did."

"I hear dig from you, babe, and all I can think of is a shovel. This isn't...forgiveness. This is just wrong."

"I'm a courier. Pretty good at handling packages if you catch my drift."

I saw the look in his eyes and I nailed it. Absolutely nailed it. Now, I'd just have to find a position (not sexually) where grabbing my boot seemed normal.

The elevator dinged and as soon as we stepped out, it went back down, presumably for Boone and Veronica. He grabbed my hand and led me to his room. When I shut the door, I swear I heard the elevator ding again. I pushed him on the chair and straddled him. The dream I had popped back into my mind, and I kept thinking of Boone to push it away. I didn't want to have feelings for anyone, but they were growing for Boone. Attachment always led to disappointment.

I felt him hardening under me and was sickened with myself. As I put my lips to meet his, I grabbed the knife and plunged it into his neck.

He seemed startled. Shit, I would be, too. He grabbed at it, but his blood was making the handle slick. I must've hit an artery, because it was spurting. I stood and watched him flail, smiling the whole time. I'm sure it was painful.

He stood up, "babe, come on. We could've...worked out a...deal," blood dribbled between his lips.

I took the knife out and slashed it across his throat. He fell like a log. Hard and heavy, right below my feet. Boone and Veronica had burst through the door at that time. I dipped my hand into the pool of blood under him, and made a hand print on my face with it. That's how we say, "I won" in my village. The streaks are one thing, but an entire handprint meant you had taken on your biggest enemy and won.

I turned to Boone and Veronica. They both looked impassive, until I threw my head back and howled loudly, much like a wolf. Then, they both stared at me with wide eyes, and a cigarette fell out of Boone's mouth. My revenge had been taken. I had won. I am strong, you are weak. I could feel my lip curling up into a twisted smile. I had so much adrenaline, I wanted to break something.

Searching through his pockets, there were two keys, a whopping 1043 caps, and the platinum chip. It was obviously important, since you know, he killed someone for it. The one key opened a safe behind the bar, which had 2059 more caps and a couple of different things we really didn't need. I would've taken more, if I had enough pockets to store it all. Boone snatched up what cigarettes were laying around, a few cartons and pacs. I took one last look around the suite, and in Benny's room I noticed another securitron. Instead of Victor's cowboy face or the police men faces, he had a big, happy smile. It sort of freaked me out. And by sort of, I mean it was the thing nightmares are made of.

"Oh hi there!" He said.

"Uh, hi. Who are you?"

"I'm Yes Man! Benny programmed me to be super helpful! I literally cannot say no!"

_Good_, "what's the platinum chip do?" I asked.

"Oh that silly thing! Did you know Benny killed a courier for that? I was able to get into House's mainframe and find the courier's location! All of the packages had tracking units in it! I told him exactly where to find the courier, and he brought the chip back here. It turns out that the platinum chip is like a storage device. It contains data to upgrade House's securitrons. There are two places to upgrade them; the bottom of the Lucky 38, and Fortification Hill! I shouldn't have told you all of that."

"I'm the courier Benny shot, but did not kill. Was Benny planning on helping House?"

"Wow I am really sorry. Now I feel bad. Benny wasn't going to help House though. Not at all! He wanted an independent Vegas. He was gonna upgrade the securitrons, take out House and install me on the data mainframe."

"An independent Vegas, huh?"

"You bet!"

"Okay. Thank you, Yes Man."

"You're not thinking of an independent Vegas, are you?" Boone asked.

I grabbed my things off the counter, and the guy behind it was startled.

"What happened, baby? Where'd that bloody hand print come from?"

"What's your name?"

"You can call me Swank. What can I do for you?"

"What do you do here?" I asked.

"I take care of The Tops when Benny isn't around."

I slammed the lighter on the desk, "you've just been promoted."

I adjusted my 9mm in my belt loop as Boone pushed the door open for Veronica and I. A pale man in a dirty brown suit and hat approached us. His eyes were pale blue, and light blonde, almost white hair stuck out if the hat. When he spoke, I knew immediately who it was.

"Caesar has sent me to give you his mark. He would like to meet the courier who's been stirring up problems for his Legion."

"Hello, Fox."

"My pleasure," he held out a coin on a chain. It had a bull on it, and around the edge, it read "Lego Caesaris." I took it from his hand and eyed him warily.

"Do not keep the mighty Caesar waiting."

He turned on his heel, and I quickly grabbed the knife from my boot. I could almost physically feel Boone tense behind me, and before the great Vulpes Inculta knew what had happened, I brought the knife across his throat. I grabbed him as he slumped back against me, and dragged him over to a pile of rubble beside The Tops. I looked around, and despite how busy it was, no one noticed. No one was looking at us. Boone picked his body up and slumped it behind some rubble and a fake tree.

I began walking away, but Boone slipped a finger in my belt loop and spun me around. He put a hand on the back of my head and one of the small of my back and crushed me into him, his lips hot and heavy, and a gasp escaped me.

"You and I had the same thought," he said against my lips. Some of the blood on my face had smeared onto his. He noticed, and took three fingers and dipped them into Vulpes's blood, and streaked them across his own cheek. I smiled at his willingness to accept our strange cultures.

Veronica made a whistling noise as we came back from behind the casino, and I rolled my eyes at her.

"So from what I understand, that was one of Caesar's dogs?" She asked.

"Yeah. He was a Frumentarii. From what I gather, they're a scout and an ambassador," I said making my way to the Lucky 38.

"Which is a big deal, because they're Caesar's right hand men. He trusts them with everything. Taking down a Frumentarii is an inch away from Caesar himself," Boone laid a hand across my ass and I felt my cheeks redden.

"Wow...he went down like a sack of bricks. Maybe he didn't think you had the balls to do it since The Strip is so crowded," Veronica suggested.

Victor met us in front of the Lucky 38. In his metal claw, he held a large key with a poker chip at the end that said 'Lucky 38.' He dropped it in my hand.

"The boss might be a little angry at you for makin' him wait, so don't say I didn't warn ya."

"Sorry, Victor. The main reason I came here was taken care of, though."

"Well, go on, don't keep 'im waitin.'"

I put the key in the lock, and it made a satisfying click. The first thing we saw upon entering was two police securitrons, and Victor again. It seemed like Victor could just jump back and forth between securitrons. I shrugged, and noticed off to the left, there was a greeting area and a bar. To the right, there were dozens of slot machines. Straight ahead, there were elevator doors adorned with a Lucky 38 poker chip.

I stared in amazement at how pristine and clean everything was. The air smelled stale, but from what I understand, no one had been in or out in over 200 years. It felt oddly cool, like something was making the air cooler. I remember reading about it long ago, but I couldn't recall the name. Most of them were broken when the bombs fell, and no one has really used one since then.

Victor pulled me from my thoughts, sounding harsher than I've ever heard before, "go on, get to meetin' him. You're a guest, don't keep 'im waitin'. Your partners will have to stay here, though. Just a formality."

Boone stepped in between us, "if she goes, I go."

"Can't do that, boss," Victor said as securitrons began closing in on Boone.

"I'll be fine, Craig," I nodded and rubbed my nose against his. He smiled down at me, and Veronica broke our contact.

"Yeah, Craig," she said his name with heavy sarcasm, "I'm gay, so I won't hit on you. Besides, we can talk about guy things. Like when I punched that raider's head in half!"

He rolled his eyes at me and pushed me towards Victor. Giving the robot a stern look, he said, "If something happens to her, I will tear this casino down, board. by. board. You hear me?"

"I rightly do, soldier boy. Let's get you to meetin' the big man."

Victor escorted me into the elevator and we took it down to what he called the 'penthouse.' Victor told me to be real respectful towards Mr. House and to tell him I had the platinum chip.

The elevator dinged and I stepped out to be greeted by a securitron with a woman's face. She spoke real low and seductive, like silk. I imagined she was probably one of Mr. House's sex-bots. He had to be a ghoul or something of the sort...I've been told he was around since before the Great War. She told me to walk down the steps and I'd meet Mr. House.

I walked down the stairs, but the only thing I saw was a large computer monitor surrounded by smaller ones. There were a couple of securitrons milling about. I checked around the room and couldn't find anyone. I stood there, tapping my foot impatiently. Finally, on the large computer monitor, a face appeared.

"So you're a computer?" I asked before he started talking.

"Not quite. Enough about me, though. So you're Courier Six? Been causing a lot of trouble around the Mojave, I hear."

"Not quite."

"I knew you wanted revenge, but you should've come in here first. Though you may have been stealthier than I expected, people will find out, so I have to clean up after you, which I don't like doing."

"I could always go in there and kill the rest of them," I bared my teeth.

"No, that won't be necessary. Don't bare your teeth at me like some animal. Anyway, I assume you've received the platinum chip?"

"Yeah? What about it?"

"It belongs to me."

"Oh no. You see, a man put a bullet in my head for this. I was contracted to take it into Freeside and I barely made it into a small town called Goodsprings. I've been told there's something in this to power up your securitrons," I twirled the chip between my fingers, dropping it with expertise.

I could hear him sigh, "If it's caps you want, I will be able to give you that and much more. The Lucky 38 will be your home, and I can give you fame, power and glory. And I understand that glory is one of your tribe's biggest concerns."

"You're damn right it is. But from what I understand, you're the one who lead Benny to where I was."

"Not directly. That robot he reprogrammed was able to access my mainframe. I've since blocked that particular model out. I also noticed someone was able to hack into my securitrons at the front gate to get access in without a passport. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"I don't, but my friend Veronica does," I smirked.

"I figured as much. I wasn't expecting a tribal to have the knowledge to do so. I have made you three passports so you will no longer be able to do so. I've changed the codes and commands as well."

"What the fuck does that mean?" I snarled.

"I doubt you have much experience in technology, that's all. Anyways, onto business. I want you to go to Fortification Hill and upgrade my securitrons."

"Me? Go into the heart of Legion territory? You're fucking kidding, right? I don't know if you've noticed, but I have tits. And in Legion territory, they rape and sell and enslave anything with tits."

"Well, that may be the case, but I noticed that you were given the Mark of Caesar. He has guaranteed safe passage in his land."

"I am not going to meet with Caesar. Absolutely not. I was told you can upgrade your securitrons in your own basement."

"You _will_ go meet up with Caesar. Tell me what he says and upgrade my securitrons."

"I don't think you heard me. I said no. I'll upgrade them in _your_ own basement, but I will be sold like a piece of meat. Besides, the guy I'm traveling with will attack Legion on sight. His wife was captured and almost sold into slavery."

"Ah, yes. Craig Boone, is it? Well, it seems like you'll have to leave him here."

"That's another no, House. He's been the best protection I've had with me."

House seemed to be getting impatient, "listen, I could have someone actually kill you for the chip, I'd you'd rather."

I ground my teeth and snarled, "oh yeah? I'd like to see you try."

And with that, I stomped back up the stairs and I took the elevator to the casino floor. I told Boone and Veronica what happened, and Veronica said she had been playing around with Victor and was able to incapacitate his lasers for a short amount of time.

"If I can get into the basement, I can kill off House and upgrade the securitrons," I whispered.

"After you take out House, I can reprogram them to follow us," Veronica suggested.

Boone looked impassive as we discussed things over steak and beer in our new presidential suite. Well, I had a water of course, but they had beers.

"Craig, you're awfully quiet over there," I said.

"Well you know how I feel about the situation. I'm for the NCR."

Yeah, I know. Shouldn't have even asked.

"But...what if...we take over New Vegas and have the NCR join us?" I asked.

"I don't want that burden. I want the NCR running things around here."

"Why? Like I said before, they don't have the resources or caps to take care of things. House, from what I know, has tons and tons of caps stored away. Maybe we can take 'em under our wings?"

"No."

"I think it's a good idea," Veronica said, "we can get the support of the Khans, the Brotherhood, the Boomers, the Families, the NCR, and have everyone show up at the Dam and take out the Legion."

"And, if I upgrade the securitrons, there's an entire army under the Fort at Fortification Hill."

Boone looked at both of us and crossed his arms. He didn't say anything else, and when Veronica and I began making plans to hack into the securitrons long enough to kill House, he stomped out of the room.

"He sure is a moody one," Veronica said quietly.

"He's a soldier boy. Thinks the NCR should rule Vegas. I don't think it's a wise idea, though. The NCR's already not very trustworthy in my book, but some of them have good ideas and good plans for themselves. That's all anyone thinks of is themselves."

"I think we should move your tribe here. I mean, if we go for an independent Vegas, you'll probably be sticking around, right? Why not bring them here so we can have their support, too?"

"That is a damn fine idea. Let's get on to killing this tyrannical man, and we'll leave to saddle my people up!" I was practically jumping out of clothes with excitement.

I checked every room before finding Boone in a room that was labeled "common room." It had a couple TVs, a couch facing each TV, a chair at the end of each couch, and a card table with four chairs in the corner. He sat at the table with his rifle and sunglasses in front of him. He held his head in his hands.

I went over and placed a hand on his shoulder, but he shook me off. I broke down.

"You wanna know why I don't trust the NCR?" The tears already stung at my eyes and Veronica started to come in, but immediately turned around, shutting the door behind her.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen: Put the Past Away

"I can tell it's...private," he started as he lit up a cigarette. I put a hand up to stop him, so I could continue with what I was saying.

"It was...five years ago. I had just turned 18 and I was on my first trip as a courier. I was wandering around in California. Passed right through Nevada, and had to get to The Hub. I was approached by a couple of NCR troopers, and they said some of the upper ranks had been asking to meet me, that they might have some work for me. I followed them through the desert for a few days, until I was attacked from behind. Knocked me out and dragged me the rest of the way to where ever we went. I woke up and I...I," I let a sob out and grit my teeth. I hated crying, and I've done it how many times in front of Boone in the short amount of time I knew him. It was a sign of weakness. Only in rare occasions was it a sign of strength. "I woke up and I was in a dark room. I...was naked and I was tied to the bed, everything was out in the open. I was kept there for a week, they only gave me water and I had to go to the bathroom with someone there, watching me. There were two men, and they berated me for being a tribal. Thought I couldn't read or write. It was a general and an ambassador. They took turns at me...never at the same time, though. Put their manhood in whatever they could fit it in. I...never had sex before. The more I screamed, the more they would cut me," I lifted my shirt and turned my back to Boone, "they kept at it...for a week. I...I'm not sure why. They kept asking about my tribe, but I wasn't sure what they wanted. Only asked where we lived once. I'm not sure why they chose me. They had guards outside my door 24/7 and there was almost always someone stuffing themselves in me. I..." I sighed, no more tears would come out, but I was shaking, "for a week. Until they placed a woman guard outside my door. She said she couldn't take it. It could've been her, and she turned her head after she cut me loose and we ran together. I had no clothes. Ran butt ass naked for miles. Not even a pair of socks on my feet. I ran until I passed out, caked in blood, starving and dying of thirst. I woke up in a tent, surrounded by The Followers. The woman who helped me escape lost her NCR armor and was wearing Follower's clothes. Her head was shaved and we were given armed guards the rest of the way back to my tribe. We accepted her as one of our own. She is now our Seer, a rank that is very close to the Chief. She...she saved my life."

"What's her name?" Boone's voice was a murmur.

"Tyler."

Boone wrapped me in his arms, and my body shook, "since then...I've just always been expecting it. I don't look at it as a rape. I just keep myself willing. It's not nearly as bad as..." I trailed off.

"I'll support you with an independent Vegas. As long as you don't attack the NCR."

Great. I tell him my absolute darkest secret, and he just writes it off? I grit my teeth and was preparing a speech to spit in Boone's fucking face until I noticed his hands were balled into fists, and his already veiny hands seemed...veinier, "I understand your convictions now, and I'm sorry I was so rude to you about it before. Two men do not describe the entire NCR, however, and I hope you understand that. My convictions against tribals are simply because I'm ignorant of their culture," he admitted, "but I am willing to learn and accept, if you're willing to teach. I also understand that just because someone in your tribe does something, it doesn't describe you either. So please, just don't attack the NCR. They're my family."

_Oh shit. Not what I was expecting. Okay...quick, think of something_, "Of course I am. I'm glad you wanna learn about us. Ooh, speaking of, Veronica and I are working on a plan. After I off House, we wanna set out to Utah to gather my tribe and bring them back. They can help support us."

"I think that's a wonderful idea."

I grabbed Boone's hand and found Veronica in the bar of the casino area. She said the securitrons are unable to attack without their laser guns, and it was a simple command to disable them. Before she did that, we searched around, looking for the access point into the basement. We found a few personal safes behind the counter, stashed to the top with caps. I giggled like a school girl and shoved them into my duffle bag. Another safe that had old, moldy paper in it. They weren't worth much, so we left them there.

We left the casino floor and went onto the penthouse. Veronica searched the top floor, and Boone and I searched the bottom. I could hear lots of squeals and clinking as Veronica was presumably finding things she liked. I shook my head and, like before, Boone was always keeping a protective stance in front of me. I looked at all of the monitors near House's monitor, and there seemed to be a few slots, but there was nothing around that I could imagine opening to reveal the basement.

After looking around a bit more, I noticed an oddly placed terminal under the stairs, and right beside it was a door. When I checked the computer, a command came up, saying, "unlock basement door?" I clicked yes, but a message came up saying, "unauthorized user; access denied."

"Look at this, Harley," Boone pointed out a slot that was just big enough for the platinum chip on the right side of the monitor.

I called to Veronica, who sprinted down the stairs and jumped up and down when we found it. She went to the nearest securitron, and did what she did at the gate, except the code was different.  
"Okay, you have maybe a minute until they can use their lasers again. Kill him so I can get into the mainframe, unhindered and change the securitrons!"

I popped the chip in and the doors slid open before the slot spit the chip back out at me. Boone and I ran down the hallway, and then down a set of steps. We opened the doors at the bottom, and the room was large and mostly unoccupied. There was a computer on a desk, and in front of that there was a large chamber, lit up.  
"No, stop. You have no idea what you're doing," House said.

"You insult my people and my family," I said, pressing a command on the terminal that read 'open antechamber', "you requested that I go into the heart of Legion territory by myself," I walked up to the now-rising House, the mummified body of a 200 year old man that smelled of stale death, "and despite my saying I was uncomfortable with that plan, you said you'd get someone to kill me. Well, House, it's a dog-eat-dog world, and it looks like you've _finally_ cashed in your chips."

I brought the knife to his throat, and very little brown blood trickled out. He made a gurgling noise, and I hit the command to close the chamber, and House was sealed back in it. Probably should've asked him where to upgrade the securitrons first, 'cause I had no clue.

"Should we tell Yes Man to come here before we leave? That way he can look over the casino?" Boone asked.  
"Good idea."

On the penthouse floor, Veronica's fingers were flying across the keyboard. Her robe was on the floor, and she had a pair of form fitting shorts and a matching shirt on. Veronica's muscles were tensed up, and she was visibly sweating.

"I keep getting locked out!" She grit her teeth, "you guys _did_ kill House, right?"

"Yeah."

"I don't have much time until their lasers reactivate."

I don't know much about computers, but she was getting an 'access denied' code every time she entered something in. She grabbed her robe off the floor and began putting it back on, "get ready to fight, boys."  
The securitrons came back up, and instead of fighting, I told everyone to run to Yes Man. We needed the securitrons as backup at the dam, we couldn't afford to kill them. As we ran back to the elevator, most of the securitrons seemed confused. They weren't attacking, at least not yet. On the casino floor, however, the securitrons were warning us to stop or they'd fire. We'd made it to the door before they could attack us, but I had forgotten about the ones on The Strip as well. We were close to The Tops, and behind us, securitrons began wheeling in – and fast. I heard the sound of a laser pistol shooting, and it seared the wall above my head. We were so close to The Tops, I could taste it. Boone grabbed my hand and practically began dragging me there, he was running so fast. I was keeping up until I heard another shot fired. I tried to look back and lost my footing. Never turn your back on an enemy.

We were on the steps going into The Tops. Veronica rushed in to grab Yes Man and Boone grabbed under my arms and began dragging me. Another laser flew past and nearly clipped my arm. Another was shot and it hit me right in the leg, above the knee cap. Searing hot pain exploded through my leg and I cried out. My leather pants had been burned away and I was seeping blood. Boone kicked the door open and picked me up, but another laser beam shot through the air. It clipped Boone in the arm, before it tore the whole way across my chest, just above my boobs, ripping the skin open, like a flap, and blood began just pouring out. My undershirt was soaked in seconds.  
We crashed across the floor in The Tops and my eyelids began to get heavy. I was tired and not just normal tired, tired to my core. I realized I was holding my breath and I parted my lips a little to let it escape. I couldn't bring myself to draw in another, because it sent a searing pain from my chest, to my head, neck, fingers and toes. My thigh bone felt like it was shattered and melting.

I blinked one last time, and my eyes stayed shut. I couldn't find the strength to reopen them, and everyone's voices became muffled. I could hear Boone yelling my name. A few of The Chairmen were asking what was going on. I felt fingers being pressed to my throat. It sounded like someone said I was still alive. I gave up trying to fight, and let myself succumb to the darkness.

_I was at a long rectangular table made out of scraps of wood. I was seated on a cut of tree trunk. My body was adorned with a fine purple silk robe, the left sleeve missing to reveal my tattoo. It was our celebration table, where we held large dinners after big ceremonies like weddings, rank changes, initiations, and so forth. I was seated at a longer portion, with Boone to my left. My dad was at the head of the table, and directly across from me was Benny. I raised an eyebrow, but no one was questioning what was going on. Dad blessed the food and the crops, and we began to eat.  
"Dreaming about me again, kid?" Boone smirked and put his hand on my thigh. I started sweating, but relaxed as I realized no one was watching us. Dad would've had his head on a pike for touching me like that if we weren't married. At least Boone took his hat and glasses off, that's also a big thing with Dad.  
Mom wasn't at the table, so I reached over to Dad to get his attention and my fingers slipped right through his arm. Benny must've noticed, because he piped up when my jaw went slack, "your dad is dead, pussycat," he reached over to touch me, and his fingers, though they looked solid, passed right through me, "and I'm dead, if you remember. You and your soldier over there can still touch because you're both alive."  
"So where's my mom?" I asked.  
"She's alive, but she doesn't appear to be with the tribe."  
"Not with the tribe? That's ridiculous, she's the chief!"  
"Hey, I'm just telling you what I know, sister," he put another spoonful of food in his mouth, "damn, you savages sure can make a good meal."  
I growled, but Boone rubbed my back. Attacking him wouldn't do anything anyway. I sighed.  
Vulpes took a seat beside Benny, still wearing his dog hat and Legion armor. The guy from Goodsprings sat next to Vulpes. House took a seat, but he wasn't the mummified person in the chamber. He was a handsome young man again, his hair parted on the side and slicked carefully, wearing a fancy suit and tie. Tyler, Mom, the Elders, hell half of our tribe showed up. Children played under the table, grabbing at our feet. I noticed at least I wasn't pregnant this time. Mom opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.  
"I should tell you," Vulpes said, "we conquered your tribe. Took your women and children, killed your men, sick, and elderly."  
I looked to Boone who wasn't saying anything. The guy from Goodsprings, House, Benny and Vulpes had died by my hand. If what Vulpes said was true, I was responsible for the deaths of my tribespeople as well. I looked to my dad, who stood up, knocking his seat back, "kill the traitor!" He bellowed, and suddenly the table flipped over, Boone and I pinned underneath.  
"I'm sorry. I deserve this," I yelled over the ruckus that was ensuing, "but Boone didn't do anything!"  
My dad put a large booted foot on my chest, "he conspired with the enemy."  
He started to push his boot down on my chest. Now, let me tell you about my father. He was a large man. The word 'large' was not a joke. He could pass off as a super mutant if he was yellow. He was a large, hulking man. I can think of no other words to describe him. He also had a bitchin' beard and really long hair. Despite his large figure and presence, he was an absolute teddy bear. Soft at heart.  
He started pushing down, slowly at first, but the more I struggled, the harder he pushed down. I couldn't get breath in or out (which seemed to be a recurring theme in my dreams,) my chest cracked. I couldn't let out a scream. The pain was so immense, I don't have words to describe it. I felt it, hot and searing, coursing through my body. Blood bubbled out if the corner of my mouth. I was seeing stars. Everyone was taking turns, doing whatever they wanted. It was like Boone wasn't even there, nobody noticed him. He sat, horrified, crushed under my dad's boot. My fingers were broken for touching a man who I was not married to. My hair was pulled on, and ripped from my scalp. My face was being pummeled by random fists. I could feel my eyes swelling shut. I felt knives, scraping over every bit of exposed flesh. I screamed. I cried. I fought. Boone was given a merciful death, shot between the eyes._

"No!" I yelled, "He did nothing!" I was breathing heavy, the pain in my chest burning more and more with each breath.

Boone sat up from behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. He lowered me back down on the mattress, and pulled me into him. He was careful not to touch my chest. The room came into view - which was actually a tent. Veronica sat at a table in the corner, and there was another mattress on wheels across from us. I noticed the one I was on was larger than the one across the room. It smelled like dirt and stale cigarette smoke.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"The Old Mormon Fort," Boone said, "right in Freeside. They patched you up."

I looked down, and there was a jagged line of stitches across my chest. From the jagged line, there appeared to be little white sparks of lightning across my bright red flesh.

"The doctor said the white ones are laser burns. And the red part is just a normal burn from the heat," Boone said.  
"Yeah. They said you'd probably be out for a few more days," Veronica piped up.

"How long was I out?" I asked.

"Three days," they both said.

I sighed, "we need to go to my tribe. I think they're in trouble."

"You need to heal," Boone scolded.

"This is the second time I've dreamt about them being put in slavery. We have to go," I tried to sit up, but the pain was intense. "Goddamn it, get me a stimpack," I said.

"Harley, please lay back down," Boone touched my hand.

"If I do, will you get up and get me a stimpack?"

"Anything for you," he lightly placed his lips to my forehead.

He even injected it for me. This time, the liquid didn't hurt as bad as it traveled through my veins and a warming sensation spread across my chest. I could breathe a bit easier now that my chest wasn't pounding and burning as much.

"I also bought you a couple of doses of Med-X for the road. In case the pain starts to swell up again," Boone said, handing me my clothes and turning around.

I smiled at his back. Not only did he buy me Med-X and stimpacks, but he also bought me another leather vest and undershirt.

I grabbed a Sunset Sarsaparilla from my duffle bag and chugged it down. The trip was going to be a long one, so I suggested we buy a ton of food and water. Hopefully we would find more vendors on the way there.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen: I Am My Own Worst Enemy

We were out of Freeside and on our way to Utah in just a few short minutes. We would just have to follow I-15 the whole way there. Before the bombs fall, it was a city called Cedar City. Well, we were right outside of there. The city was nothing but a giant pile of rubble, so we scavenged from there when we needed, but we kept the tribe a few miles south.

I-15 passed through a bit of a state called Arizona, but not enough to matter. A day's walk would bring us to around Lake Mead. Boone and Veronica made small talk, and Boone kept a constant protective stance over me. I appreciated the gesture, but I could more than take care of myself.

"So what's going on between you two?" Veronica asked.

Neither of us answered, but I imagined we were both thinking about it. I didn't want to replace Carla. I wanted to give Boone space and when he was ready, we would be together. I was fine with that. I wanted him to get better. And it seemed like he was. I mean, aside from him grabbing my ass when I killed Vulpes, he didn't seem like he was one for PDA. I think he only grabbed me like that because he was excited that I attacked a Legion member. Let's not mention they're scum and _should_ be attacked. Anyways, he would give the occasional peck here and there, but it wasn't anything like 'let me eat your face, oh my god, I love you.' And I also respected that.

"Well, I mean, I noticed Boone never left the tent when you were sleeping at The Followers'. And like...I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you. You mean something to him," she turned from me, to Boone, "and if you don't notice the flush in her cheeks when you touch her, you're absolutely stupid."

I felt my cheeks get hot, just like she said. Boone turned to hug me, and was very gentle since my chest still hurt. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and turned back to his protective stance.

"We need to find somewhere to sleep before dark," he said.

"Quit ignoring me," Veronica huffed, "I wanna know what's up with you two?"

"He needs time. And I'm giving it to him."

There was a war in his head every time I looked in his eyes, and I hated that. Veronica accepted that answer and was quiet until we found another one of those camping vehicles in front of Lake Mead. There were a bunch of them around, with lots of picnic benches and campfires built around them. We found one that had two small mattresses in it, and Boone had a bed roll he bought from a merchant. Veronica made a fire and I cooked some steaks from a few geckos we killed on the way here. I put some coyote tobacco in the fire to give it flavor (and I noticed Boone stuffed some in his cheek) and squirted a little bit of pear fruit on them. I made sure not to overcook them this time. Veronica and I had Sunset Sarsaparilla and Boone had a bottle of beer.

My Pip-boy said it was around nine at night, and I wanted to get up at the ass crack of dawn to continue. I kept all of our glass bottles to use as a sort of alarm system. Boone and I shared the bedroll, and Veronica had a mattress to herself. I showed them how I shoved the mattress in the doorway and set the bottles on top.

I laid my head on Boone's chest and he twirled my hair between his fingers.

"Oh God! I can hear you two having sex!" Veronica put a fake grimace on her face and I stared over the whole foot gap between our beds.

She laughed, "in your heads. I can hear you two bumping uglies in your heads. I'm telling you, I don't know why you guys aren't together. I mean, I know why, but I don't. Know what I mean?"

"Sure," I laughed.

Boone squirmed uncomfortably beside me, and at that point, all awkward conversation stopped.

For once, I had gotten a good sleep. No dreams to interrupt me. No sun blinding my eyes. Just the natural feeling of waking myself up. Boone was propped up on his elbow, watching me. He said he didn't want to wake me up after I had been having nightmares. Thank goodness. Even though the long sleep relaxed my mind, it put my entire body in a state of stiffness. My chest wound thumped, and with every beat, a shock of pain was sent through my body. Boone offered a Med-X and a stimpack. I declined the Med-X. I've seen what happens to junkies, and I hope that that never happens to me. The last thing I ever want is to become addicted to some stupid shit when I can barely find food out here.

When I left the comfort of the bed, I found Veronica outside making Wasteland Omelettes. She said there was a family of geckos nearby and she cleared them herself. We sat in silence as we ate our breakfast. I think Veronica got the hint to stop cracking so many awkward jokes so often, because she was quiet as we cleaned up and set out. From my calculations, a day's walk would probably take us just shy of the Arizona state line. But then again, no one ever called me good for my map skills…well, until I had my Pip-boy.

We passed by an old store and looted what we could. Some mutfruits, some caps, a few stimpacks. Boone and I shared a mutfruit and Veronica had her own. She shared some Fancy Lad Snacks she had with her.

We left at around 9 in the morning, and after countless geckos and mantises fallen before us, at around 5 in the evening, our major scuffle of the night was with some Vipers. They came from behind a broken, caved in building, and the one raised a crowbar at Veronica. But her speed and strength was greater, and she punched the Vipers head in. A few more carrying close range weapons closed in. Boone leveled two and one came from behind him, smashing him in the arm with a baseball bat. It didn't seem to hurt, just make him angry. He leveled his gun, but at that moment I had taken the Viper out myself, splattering Boone with gray matter. We found a bunch of Med-X and a large white bottle with the word "Buffout" scribbled on it.

Boone rubbed at his arm, and I noticed he was already black and blue. He said he was fine and asked me how my chest felt. The pain had subsided considerably, but it was swollen and rubbed off my vest, making it itchy.

At around 10pm, we came across an old city called Mesquite, right on the border of Nevada and Arizona. The town seemed completely abandoned, so we went inside an old motel and made ourselves comfortable.

Much to my surprise, Veronica got the TV up and working. I'm not sure why it surprised me; she was good at technology and the TV in Boone's house worked. He offered to make dinner tonight, which consisted of a few grilled mantis legs for each of us, and some corn we found growing in a small farm we found outside of town.

Veronica slept in the bedroll (after making comments about finding semen in it,) and Boone and I took the bed. Boone mentioned that he didn't like the feel of the town. He said it was a habitable place. Shitty, but habitable. And yet, we didn't see _anyone_ on the way in. The place was in better shape than Freeside.

"All I'm saying, is that it spooks me out as all get up," Boone said, keeping a tight grip on his rifle.

"Well, I'll help you if the boogeymen come," I teased.

"This is serious, Harley. It could be anything," he scolded.

"Sorry," I mumbled, digging my head into the crook of his arm.

It wasn't long before Boone tensed, grabbing his rifle, which woke me, "there was a shadow of a human. Ran past the window and woke me up. I think we should go check it out."

"Absolutely not. We're going to lie in here and pretend like we didn't see anything."

I knew the military man in him would not take that as an answer, and as though he read my mind, he began tying his boots up. "Innocent people could be dying out there. I can't let that rest on my conscience."

Veronica and I followed him outside, but nothing seemed different than when we came in. I grabbed Boone's shoulder and asked him not to leave the comfort of the front door, but he stepped out anyway.

Still nothing. I sighed, and as I was getting ready to turn on my heel and retire for the second time tonight, I saw Boone level his rifle. I focused on what was going on in the distance, and saw heavily armed super mutants. I tried to distract Boone, there was no way we could take them all on our own, but he kept shooing me away.

"You're going to get us killed," I hissed.

"Not if you let me take these shots."

The super mutant in the distance noticed us and began sprinting in and out of buildings. Boone threw Veronica and I inside and shut the door behind him. A ragged breath escaped, making my chest shudder in pain. I expected the mutant to burst through the door at any moment, but instead, there was a quiet knock at the door. None of us were eager to answer, and we all stared at it, expecting it to fall over.

"Uh...hello?" The voice was unlike any other super mutant's I had ever heard. It wasn't raspy and gravel-like. Instead, it was soft and smooth, "I noticed a few humans run in here after I spotted them. It's okay. I won't hurt you. In fact, since you're staying in our city, I'd like to get to know you."

Veronica peeked her head out of the door and he tried to smile at her.

"We didn't mean to intrude," she said, "we just needed a place to stay for the night, and we'll be gone in the morning."

"By all means, you can stay here."

"How come we didn't see you guys coming in?" Boone asked.

"We usually stay underground until about midnight. We come up to make sure no hooligans are squatting in our area, and that no one is trying to destroy the city. It stays pretty empty."

I sighed, "having nice super mutants to guard the city sounds a lot more appealing than anything else I had in mind."

"Yes. We don't let any trash in, and if they slip by, they pay up or leave."

"I'll pay you for the room," I offered.

"It's fine. If you'll be gone in the morning, I won't take a payment from you tired souls."

"Thank you so much. Sorry we freaked out at the sight of you. The super mutants we have back home aren't very friendly," I sighed.

"That's quite alright. You three get some good sleep," he said before leaving.

"Well, that was interesting," I said quietly.

I watched Boone squirm beside me, unable to tell if he was having a good dream or a bad dream. Either way, he was asleep, which he hadn't done much since we met. I woke up about an hour before, when the first rays of dawn were perfectly aimed through the curtains and hit me in the eyes. Veronica and I sat in silence in the early morning hours. I didn't want to wake Boone.

By nine in the morning, I shook him awake, "we have to set out."

He shook me off in a rather rude manner and I shot him a questioning look but he didn't seem to notice as he put his boots back on and we got ready to leave.

The city was weirdly empty again, and I remembered the super mutant saying they stayed underground. Boone was walking a few feet behind me again, and Veronica raised an eyebrow at me. _Give him time_, I thought to myself.

After a couple of hours of nothing, no words being exchanged, no protective stance, no stolen looks, I asked Veronica for some alone time.

"Craig—"

"Please don't call me that. You can call me Boone, like everyone else does."

_What? _"Why are you so...distant today?"

"You'd understand, if you shot your wife and kid."

I took a step closer, and he took a step back. I had no idea what was going on, we were fine yesterday.

"Boone, I-"

"I don't expect you to understand."

"Listen to me. What you did was not wrong. They would've suffered. If you were having a boy, he would've become a Legion man, doing exactly what you're trying to stop. Would you want that for him? Or if you had a girl, she'd be a slave from day one. Would you want that? And your wife. She would've been a slave 'til the day she died with no rights or anything. I want you to understand that I do understand, and were I in your shoes, I would've pulled the trigger."

"No, you wouldn't have. It took more strength than I could muster, let alone a..." He trailed off.

"Tribal?" Tears were threatening to spill, "You think I couldn't have mustered the strength? Do you know how many people I've killed?"

"None that were close to you."

I jumped at him, pushing him backwards. He kept his footing and grabbed my forearms. Struggling wasn't doing much. I thrust my body at him and he lost balance, and I landed on top of him. Somehow, I managed to be pinned under his weight again. I sighed and stopped struggling.

Veronica kept a steady pace a few yards ahead of us. She glanced back, but didn't poke her head in, so she just sat down on a rock. Veronica was a girl after my own heart. She was witty and funny, but she knew when to give people space.

"Look," he sighed, wiping the collecting sweat from under his beret, "I don't mean to be mean, but I can't do this with you. You're a sweet girl, and I don't want to hurt you. But...Carla and I are together."

_His dead wife and him are still together? _"Don't want to hurt me? What do you think you're doing now? Do you think you just gave me a supporting pat on the back? No. You're walking away, when we were working on fixing you."

"You need to help you fix yourself instead of fix me."

I thought on it for a minute. Sure, I had anger problems and I was what one would call a slut, but I...I really wanted to be with him. This couldn't all be about Carla, could it?

"Boone...were you at Bitter Springs?" I asked, thinking back to his slip up when I mentioned it.

There was a long, stifling pause, and finally, he croaked out a "yes."

"I've heard the Great Khan's version of the story. Let me hear yours," I shifted under his weight.

"I'm sure it's no different. No way to sugar coat it. The Khans were outnumbered. They were escaping...well, their children, sick and elderly were fleeing through a nearby pass while everyone else fought. Orders were to gun them all down as they ran through the passage. Plain as day. So...we did. You trust your commanding officer. Don't question him. And even at the time, I thought, 'what the fuck am I doing?' But, I don't know...I'm just not sure why I didn't stop. I took the lives of many innocent people and I'm living on borrowed time."

Aha. So that's what's been eating him. "Did you tell Carla?" I asked, quietly. Manny told me he got out of going to Bitter Springs, so I doubt he and Boone talked about it. He just needed a rock to hold him, and I could do that.

He bent down, his nose barely touched mine, and there was an anger in his eyes, "it's none of your fucking business, okay? Quit playing 20 questions. I'm fucking done with your childish games. I said I belong to Carla, so quit thinking we'll be together."

He got up and Started walking towards Veronice. I wasn't sure what to say or do. Tears welled up in my eyes and spilled down my face. I could barely see anything, they were coming on so fast. How dare he lead me on? How dare he say he would accept my tribe and then insult it again? How dare he do this to me?

I sat up, "Fuck you!" I yelled at his back, "Fuck you. How dare you lead me on?" I asked, voicing my own question. He was turning towards me, backtracking to undoubtedly get in my face, "I said I'd give you time. I fucking said I would, and I was. I'm fine with that. I don't know what the fuck happened in that last six hours of sleep, but fuck you, okay? Maybe I'm asking questions because the last time you got a load of your chest, you didn't seem like you were arguing with yourself as often. I'm sure it felt like a lifted load off your shoulders, and I know it made_ me_ feel better. And you know something? I know what losing a loved one feels like. I've also told you what happened to me, the thing I keep locked away tighter than anything I can imagine, and you can't share your secrets with me?"

For a second, he looked dumbfounded, "I had a dream I was back with Carla, and...I'm betraying her. I-"

"Get away from me. Just leave," I sobbed.

Betraying his dead wife? Saying he was still with her? What the fuck. I understand how much it hurt, I do. But making himself well in guilty feelings all day? I buried my fists in the sand, repeatedly punching at it until my fists screamed in agony. And yet, Boone was still walking in the same direction as we were going. Veronica stopped, still ahead of me, and jogged back. She looked upset, too. Helping me back up, she reminded me that we were supposed to be going to find my tribe. I saw her throw an evil look at Boone that could melt steel.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen: God's Gonna Cut You Down

We walked in silence for hours until a couple of dirty-looking people (I'm sure we weren't much better,) surrounded us and asked us to drop our weapons. We all complied, Veronica dropping a laser pistol, Boone dropped his rifle, and I dropped That Gun, Romulus and my 9mm. I noticed that you couldn't see Veronica's power fist under her robes, and as soon as everyone was done scavenging our equipment, they turned around to leave and I shot a wicked smiled at Veronica. Time to take out my anger.

She punched one in the back, and I heard a sickening crunching noise. He coughed up blood and turned to punch her, apparently not knowing how to use the weapons they stole from us. She grabbed his fist as it flew towards her, and she crushed it like it was nothing. He howled in pain.

I grabbed a guy from behind, twisting his neck so hard I heard a snap and he dropped. Boone looked at us like he had no idea what was going on, so I grabbed the man coming for him. He raised my own 9mm at me, and I tackled him to the ground, pinning his arms under my legs. I had a growing bloodlust, deep in the pit of my stomach, and it felt insatiable. I began pummeling this guy's face until it was unrecognizable. Veronica punched another guy's head in, and there was one left. She raised Romulus to Boone, who stood there, his face completely impassive. He was _inviting_ her to do it. Before either three knew what had happened, I dug out the knife from my boot and expertly threw it at our foe's head. It lodged into her temple and she dropped like a sack of wet meat.

I dipped a finger in everyone's blood and spread it across my face, before throwing my head back and howling. There was something so wrong for enjoying it that much. I felt a lot better afterwards, even though sadness still tugged in my core.

After all of our weapons were recovered and some supplies scavenged off the bodies, we set out again. Our goal was to make it to Saint George, a little town just inside the Utah border before we settled for the night, but we were nowhere near there and we'd probably have to make a camp. We walked a little bit into the darkness, and couldn't find a good spot to call home for the night. Veronica suggested we keep walking through the night until we find Saint George, take a quick cat nap and be on our way. It wasn't far from Saint George where the WolfPaws were settled. Maybe a few hours' walk.

We stumbled upon an old interstate sign that said "Saint George, two miles," and pointed straight. Two miles wasn't much and we came across the old town a little bit after one in the morning. The town was one of the biggest I've seen since we left New Vegas, and there were patches of grass and small trees in every direction. It was the greenest thing I've ever seen. The town itself was blocked off by loads of rubble, and there was only one entrance into the town, which was guarded by two burly men.

"Well hello there, cuties," the one called out to Veronica and I. A smiled played on her lips, and I knew it had something to do with her being gay. Boone had a sour look on his face, as usual, and I smiled slightly at the guards in a nice gesture.

"Hi. We're just tired travelers passing through. We wanted to know if we could gain entrance just for the night, and we'll be gone in the morning?"

"Sorry babe," the one spoke, sounding like he was gargling gravel, "we don't allow squatters."

"Oh no. We aren't squatters. We'll pay for a hotel and everything. Maybe even buy some supplies. We aren't here to cause any trouble, I promise," I smiled genuinely, even though I knew the blood streaks on my face contradicted everything I just said.

The guards eyed each other wearily and asked if we could show them we actually had caps on us. Veronica and Boone produced caps from their pockets, and I had my duffle bag almost full. They nodded and allowed us in. I would've jumped for joy, except we walked all night and I was way too tired to do so.

We wandered through the city for a while, until we found a hotel. My chest still hurt, my knuckles were red, black and blue and swollen, and my head thumped. Not to mention my stomach was practically caving in on itself because I was so hungry. We stopped at the general store and bought food, which was my turn to make, and ammo.  
The area was dotted with green life struggling to grow through the irradiated soil. I bet that back before the war, it was beautiful. Most of the buildings were little more than rubble, but there were some that maintained their structure. The hotel was an old apartment complex that was seemingly untouched. The word "hotel" was crudely written over the old "now leasing" sign out front.

There was a very bored, pretty girl sitting at the front desk. She had brown spiky hair, and large blue eyes. Her cheeks were chubby, despite being very skinny. She had her eyes glued to Boone, and I imagined if she were a guy, her dick would be jumping out of her pants. Boone wasn't looking at her, so I cleared my throat to get her attention. She gave me a nasty look and started flirting with Boone.

I snapped my fingers in her face, "I am the one paying for a room and if you do not wipe the look off your face when you speak to me, I will wipe the walls with your blood," a bit harsh, but she seemed to get the point and was nice as pie (whatever that was) for the rest of the time she spoke to me. Even gave us the room half off.  
The room was on the fourth floor, and it smelled oddly of cleaner. Like someone tried to clean it, but the dilapidation was too much for Abraxo alone. There was a common room with a TV and couch, a bathroom, a kitchen, and one bedroom with two beds, a dresser and a closet. The water here was relatively clean, so I decided to soak my clothes and myself, making the water so hot I could barely stand it, and it made my skin red. I stayed in there for hours, the water turning colder and colder until it was too cold for me to deal with it anymore. I gingerly washed my chest, my knuckles crying in defeat any time I had to move them. I scrubbed my hair and body until I was red again, feeling more than dirty for letting myself be conned by a beautiful man, thinking he legitimately wanted to be with me. I let some quiet tears slide out and cursed myself for being so weak.

"You okay in there?" Veronica's voice came through the door, soft and caring.

"Uh, yeah. I was just giving myself a soak," it wasn't a lie, at least. The water made me feel calm. I didn't want to get out and face the real world anymore.

She opened the door and came in. At first I was scared – if I were in her shoes, seeing a wet, naked girl, I would be all over it. But Veronica wasn't that way at all. I liked her as a person, and she was very pretty. If I wasn't caught up with Boone, I would've probably bed her by now. She didn't look at my naked form at all. Instead she grabbed a towel and wrapped me in it, laying my head on her lap as she sang an old-world lullaby about a mockingbird to me that she said her parents used to sing. I melted in her arms, I felt so fragile and she was going to be my rock. I let everything flow from me. My attraction to Boone, my hatred for the NCR and why I hated them, everything about my tribe, how many people I've killed just because, my dreams that keep me awake at night, anything I could say to just get shit of my chest.

Veronica murmured, "shh. Let's get you dressed and into bed. You've got a big day ahead of you, and you need your strength."

"I forgot to make dinner," I said weakly.

"That's okay. Mr. Grumpy-pants out there didn't want any, so I made you and I some squirrel stew. It's not as bad as it sounds," she smiled, handing me a clean bra and pair of underwear while mine dried.

Veronica and I decided to share a bed and give the other to Boone. He didn't say anything, but from our first night together, I doubt he would use it. I tossed and turned, knowing I was keeping Veronica awake. I got up to get a drink of water, noticing the bed beside ours was empty. I found Boone on the couch in the common room, his eyes fixed on the door, rifle in hand. His glasses and beret were on the table next to the couch. I felt exposed in just a bra and underwear, but he didn't even look at me as I passed by to the kitchen. I found a rubber band and tied my hair back with it, stroking the fuzz that was growing over my now-scarred head. I let cool water pool into my hands and thirstily drank from them.

I heard a stirring from the common room, _please don't come in here, please don't come in here,_ I pleaded to myself. But no matter how much pleading I could've been done, Boone appeared in the doorway.  
"Harley," he said to the ground.

"Boone," I said curtly, looking straight at him. I kept telling myself not to lose my composure. Before I could, I turned on my heel and walked away. I couldn't face him, I wouldn't. He said I could have his bed before I slammed the bedroom door, waking Veronica up.

I apologized, and she nodded, seeming to understand. It was five in the morning, and I sighed to myself as I laid down and stared at the ceiling. It was a night of no sleep for all three of us, and by eight in the morning, we decided to collect our things and head on for the day.

It was a lot cooler here than it was in Nevada, and I was thankful to not be swimming in humidity. I looked at my Pip-boy – we were getting close. We were behind an old large shopping center, right before the entrance to Cedar City. In the distance, I saw black smoke, and visions of Nipton reared their ugly heads. I panicked, and Veronica saw it in my eyes.

I ran. I ran as fast as my legs could take me, I flew past Veronica, and even though she was fast, she struggled to keep up. Boone kept a steady jogging pace behind us. I kept drawing in ragged breaths, my chest was pounding, and there was a stitch in my side. I eventually stopped at the super market, not wanting to peek around. The scent of something burning was filling my nostrils. I couldn't bring myself to look. Veronica's eyes were wide as she came from around the store. I dropped and cried. And cried. I couldn't hold it. I knew something happened, and again I was too weak to check it out.

"You need to see this yourself, " Veronica helped me up and basically carried me the whole way there.

Nothing. That's what was left of my tribe. There was a crimson flag with a gold bull on it planted in the ground in front of the sign that said "WolfPaw Tribe." I started hyperventilating. I did this. I wasn't here to protect them. I kept drawing breath in but it wouldn't stay in my lungs. _First Boone, and now this?_

Smoke billowed from tents that were now nothing more than ash and burnt wood. The only thing still standing was the chief's house - my house. It was a concrete building, so I imagine it was hard to burn down. I stepped past the rubble of the burned down tents, the fallen bodies, mostly all men, all of them I recognized. I pushed their eyelids down and thanked each one of them personally. I poked around in the ash, trying to find anything worth keeping. A few cloths, the kind we wore over our waists...even the women walked around bare-chested. I found odd and end trinkets. A teddy bear. A wooden statue. Broken cups and plates. And among the rubble was Tyler's clay turtle necklace. The chain was broken, so I put it in my pocket.

Boone and Veronica offered to help bury everyone. I didn't look at Boone, who I knew intimately (well, thought about intimately, at least.) Who I told all about our strange cultures and poured my heart and soul out to. I thanked them for their patience and headed into my old house.

I was told it had a sign on it when we first migrated here that said "Medical Care." It sat up on a hill, overlooking the rest of our tribe. There was a door on the far right when you faced the building and a few windows. The door led right into our meeting hall. Had an old, ripped up couch and a bunch of chairs, and an old card table in the corner. Beside the rows of chairs, there was a wooden rack that held all sorts of old-world magazines about how to please your man in bed and what to expect when you're pregnant. Smack-dab in the middle of the room was a plastic kids' table with little yellow chairs. Something told me this was a women's and children's clinic. In the back, there were a few rooms that we used as a common room and our bedrooms, and more spare rooms. Mostly for any kids whose parents died, or if I were to have kids and a husband while mom and dad were still alive. There was already a kitchen and a full bathroom in it that were kinda dirty. When dad became chief, and mom moved in, she made sure to scrub the whole place down. It practically sparkled. My footsteps echoed as I walked through the empty meeting hall. Everything was still in place and pristine. Except when I looked in my old bedroom, the dressers had been gone through and the bed was flipped over. Same thing in my parents' room. My dad's old red bandana was sitting, undisturbed on the top of the dresser. I grabbed it and started crying harder. I cried into the bandana, wishing with all my might I had stayed.

As though he heard my thoughts, Boone piped up, "If you would've stayed, the Legion would be enslaving you right now."

"So that's your plan to comfort me? Tell me that it's better for them to be with the Legion than me?" I balled my hands into fists and gasped at the pain in my knuckles.

"No. I'm just saying those men out there fought and died for your tribe, and you'd end up the same as them."

I pulled my dad's bandana from my face and gave him the most disgusted look I could muster. I walked past them and into the bathroom, scrubbing the blood streaks off my face. I am not worthy of honor. I am disgusting. I was not around to protect my tribespeople, and they died.

I tied the bandana under my tribe mark and headed back outside. Veronica dug the holes while Boone and I dragged the bodies. It took well into the evening, and we set loved ones and their children together. It's a weird practice we did...if I were to die, they would dig up dad's old grave and put me under him. Mom would go beside him. If I were to have kids, they would take the spot underneath me, and my husband beside me, and so on. It was basically one large family tomb.

I sat down on a rock, and let my emotions run free again. I was angry. At myself. At Boone. At the Legion. There was no way this was random. It _had_ to have been a planned attack. There was no way that both I and the Legion were in New Vegas, and now all of the sudden my tribe is gone? I voiced my thoughts and Veronica and Boone eyed each other wearily. They had thought the same thing._ Good to know I'm not fucking crazy._

"I believe that's everyone," Boone said as we laid the last person in their grave.

I nodded, "I'll be right back," I said as I walked away.

I found my dad's grave, his headstone was a rock adorned with the words "Chief Liam Ma'iingan." I slumped down and hugged the headstone tight. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry," I sobbed, "I found your old bandana. I don't suppose you'd want it back?" I tried to smile, but the gesture didn't seem right on my face, "I...I hope the ancestors are taking care of you." Dad knew I didn't really believe in the ancestors watching over us and blessing the crops and I didn't really trust the Seer's visions. The Seer is one of the highest ranks in our tribe, which is why it was given to Tyler after she saved me. She didn't even know what a Seer was, but it was our tribe's greatest honor to give to an outsider with no vision. "I know I haven't been the best at everything, but I will get those bastards back for this. I've been to Vegas, daddy. You should see it. I don't actually think you'd like it, but it's a beautiful place. They need a leader, so I'm gonna help them. A guy shot me in the head while I was delivering a package there. But I obviously survived. I just..." I sobbed again. And kept sobbing until I eventually fell asleep.

Veronica shook me gently as I slept wrapped around Dad's tombstone. She said we should probably move on soon. I nodded and wiped the drool from my cheek.

"I heard you talking to your dad...I know what I said before...about you sounding casual when you talked about your dad..." He was struggling to find the words, "I was a dick. And I'm sorry. I hope I can do that with Carla one day. Still be close to her, but not have her memory take over my entire being."

"Thanks," I growled, unsure of how sincere he was. One day he was like 'I'm gonna move on, but not forget,' which was fine with me, I'd even give him time. The next day, he was like 'can't do that, I'm betraying Carla.' He was hot and cold, and I especially couldn't do it right now. Veronica seemed to be my rock in a hard place, since last night she felt more like my mom than my friend.

"You said the Khans were near here...do you think we should ask them if they know anything?" Boone asked.

"I don't fucking know, Boone," I spat, "what is there to ask? The Legion's flag is on our fucking doorstep. I'm sure if it were up to you, we would be back at your house, doing nothing.

"How about you go fuck yourself, Harley? Hm? Does that sound like a good plan?"

"Good comeback," I said, standing up and stretching out. "It might relax my old bones, though," I said as I walked away.

_Might as well try the Khans_, I thought to myself. There was nothing else here for us. I said goodbye to everyone and headed out. The only thing I took from home was my dad's bandana and my marks. Neither Boone nor Veronica tried to talk to me, and they both let me lead the way, staying a couple yards back. I could hear them whispering, but I was so angry and upset with myself that they could be planning to shoot me in the back and I wouldn't care.  
It only took a couple of hours to reach the Khans, and I was so excited to finally see someone else I knew. I've seen Boone and Veronica for the last half a week, and seeing a new face, one that I actually knew, was almost bliss.

Except that face was hard and stern, instead of inviting. He pulled a gun up to meet my head.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen: Reunion

"Uhm, hey. Max, it's me, Harley," I pointed to my tattoo, "please, lower your gun."

The brown, muscular man behind the gun seemed conflicted. A hand appeared on his shoulder, and he reluctantly dropped his pistol. The older man behind him was the Khan leader, who was known as Bear.

"Good to see you, Harley," he smiled, "who are your friends?"

"Oh, this is Veronica and Boone. And this is Bear," I said, making introductions.

"What brings you here?" He asked.

"I was doing a job out in the Mojave desert, and I decided to check up on my family..."

"Oh. I should've known. I think there's something you should see," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder and guiding me further into the encampment.

I caught Boone giving me a smug look out of the corner of my eye, and if my knuckles weren't all torn up, I'd have punched him. Bear lead me into his longhouse, and knocked quietly on a bedroom door.

"Honey, it's me, Bear. I brought something for you," he motioned for Boone and Veronica to stay back, and I idly wondered if he had vicious wolves trained to attack me behind the door.

Instead, when he opened the door, no wolves attacked. My eyes took a second to adjust to the darkness. In the corner, I could barely make out the figure of a human, curled into a ball. The person lifted their head up slowly, and before I noticed who it was, she jumped up and ran at me.

"Tyler!" I yelled, "oh my god! How'd you get-"

She embraced me and I was so excited she was here. She still had on the red Seer's robes. I lost my voice as she cried on my shoulder. As she pulled back, I noticed something in her hand. Bear did, too, and I quickly leapt out of Tyler's arms, right as she brought a knife down. Bear grabbed for her, and she caught his cheek, slicing it slightly.

"You bitch!" She yelled in her harsh military voice, "you fucking whore! I saved you, and this is how you repay me? Running around doing God knows what, with these two? You replaced your tribe! You killed them! They either died fighting or were sold as slaves!" She yelled.

I began backpedaling, trying to escape her words. I held a hand over my mouth, and Boone grabbed one shoulder as Veronica grabbed another and they carried me out. I had done enough crying for one life time, now I was just pissed off. I pulled out That Gun and walked back towards Vegas. If one thing even twitches, I was going to shoot its head off.

As we neared Vegas, Boone grabbed me by the shoulder, "so what's your plan now? To just walk up to the Fort and level Caesar and his Legion?"

"Yep."

"Let me tell you why I think that's a bad idea," Boone began.

"No. How about you don't. Because weren't you coming with me just so you could lead a suicide mission into the heart of the Legion?"

Boone took his beret off and wiped at his head, running his hand over it several times before sighing loudly, "look, kid. I really like you. I talked to Veronica and she said I'm being too hard on you. I don't try, I just..."

"It's okay. I'm unworthy of anything more," I stared at the ground, tears welling again.

He held both of my shoulders and shook me hard, "don't you dare fucking say you are nothing. Don't you dare. You're smart and beautiful. You're a good cook. You're good with a gun. You always know what to say to people. You've made me go from hating myself to being more confident. Hell, you did that on the first day I met you. You are a leader. If you try to take any of that away from yourself, you're not as smart as I thought."

It was the first time he talked to me on the way back to Vegas. I crossed my arms and looked into his eyes with venom, "I thought I was smart, too. My first mistake was leaving my family. The second was thinking that you were going to help yourself get better. _No._ That was my third. My second was when I started to like you. When I thought, 'this guy isn't a douche bag like the rest.' You have insulted my family numerous times. You have insulted me numerous times. You've brought me up to let me crash back down, without even the courtesy of a warning."

"I just...I..."

"You what? You're gonna tell me again about life and love? Or that I don't know anything? How about you insult my dead family, Boone? There's a good one. Let's hear it. I'm dying in the suspense."

"No, I'm not going to say any of that."

With that, he brought me into a hug and gently placed his lips to the scar on my temple. I kept myself steady. I would not be allowed to be wooed again.

"Everything's okay. We'll go to the Fort and find your family. You have the Mark, and we're gonna safely get you in and out," that uncharacteristic soft Boone voice was back. It pulled at my heartstrings.

"How would I break out my entire tribe without arousing suspicion?" I asked.

"We'll find a way. Life always finds a way."

I shrugged him off, I knew he would be cold again tomorrow. I opened the Lucky 38 with the poker chip key, and sighed heavily when we reached the presidential suite. I asked if Veronica and Boone would mind sharing a room, because I needed time to myself. They looked at each other uncertainly, and Veronica said it was too early for her to go to bed anyway. It was early afternoon, I realized, looking at my Pip-boy. I hadn't slept at all on the way back, because when I tried to close my eyes, I kept replaying the scene with Tyler. It may have been two in the afternoon and I _did_ need to check in with Yes Man, but I was going to bed before I did anything else.

The one bedroom, called the Master room, had a large bed in it, complete with fluffy pillows and a warm comforter. It also had a chair in the corner, several dressers and closets, and its own bathroom. The other bedroom had one small bed, a dresser and a closet. I decided to take the larger bed since I was the only one sleeping at the moment.

I peeled my pants and vest off, leaving only my underwear, bra, and bandana wrapped around my arm. I snuggled deep in the blankets, and clutched a pillow to my healing chest. I had the curtains drawn and the lights off. Even during bright daylight, it was super dark. The door clicked open, and I kept hoping to myself that it was anyone other than Boone. I kept my eyes shut and pretended to be asleep. Well I tried. Peeking over my shoulder, I saw Boone carrying the chair next to the bed. I couldn't deal with him right now. I just had to pretend to be asleep.

At some point in my pretending, I actually did fall asleep. It was getting dark outside, which made it much darker in the bedroom. I was surprised that I didn't have a nightmare to wake me from my peaceful sleep. I rolled over and came face-to-face with Boone. That's the second time he's_ invited_ himself into bed with me.

I tried to get up quietly, but Boone had sharp ears and he immediately sat up. He asked me where I was going, and when I said I needed to talk to Yes Man, he asked if that could wait. I still didn't think I could deal, but he switched a light on beside the bed and a dim light filtered through the room, motioning for me to come over.

I felt so exposed in my bra and panties. Hesitating for a moment, I went over and sat at the edge of the bed where he was now sitting up. I wrapped myself in the blanket, trying to cover up, but he pulled me up into his lap.

"We need to talk about us," he murmured into my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"...okay."

"I don't know what to say. Or how to say it. And...I'm okay with that. I'm not one for talking. And you always know just what to say. That's how it was with Carla. I guess...I just like being around you. You make me happy."

"I...last time you told me you wanted to fix yourself, you flipped out on me two days later. I can't take that. Especially not now..." A tear slid out, and he used a calloused thumb to wipe it away.

"I know. And I'm sorrier than you can imagine. I shouldn't have done that, and Veronica pounded it into my head," he smirked, "I just wanted to let you know I'm sorry."

I sat and cried. What else was I supposed to do? This man was pulling at me, emotionally and physically. He was bringing out a side of me I hated, and for some reason, I liked him even more for it. He rocked me back and forth on his lap, stroking my hair. I felt so small against his large frame. I was letting myself open to him again, and I was resentful. He'd just send me spiraling back down.

"I need fresh air," I gasped through the sobs.

He nodded and let me up, watching me carefully as I put clothes on, and my favorite hoodie. I strapped my Pip-boy on (it was around seven at night, apparently,) just in case and took That Gun with me. I just planned on walking around The Strip for a minute, so I didn't think I'd run into much trouble.

Once outside, the securitrons greeted me in a cheerful tone, and people gave me awkward looks. I realized it was probably because I came from a casino no one else has been in for over two hundred years. I shrugged, and walked towards Vault 21. I've never actually seen a vault, so I went in and asked if I could have a look around. I needed to woo as many people as possible for support in the upcoming Hoover Damn battle, so when I came up to the woman in the desk, I asked as many questions as I could think of, talked her ear off about anything that seemed interesting. Hell, she even offered me a night free.

I'll admit, I got lost inside the old Vault, constantly circling back into the game room, somehow. I was getting frustrated, so I took a seat in a couch across from the pool table. People passed by, but no one said much. I watched as two large men began playing pool, the one sneaking glances at me as often as he could. I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, sister. I hope that eye roll wasn't for me," he said, walking up to me.

"You know what we do to naughty girls like you?" The other asked, brandishing their pool sticks like weapons.

I lowered my eyes at them. I needed a good reputation on The Strip, and beating the living shit outta some goons wouldn't help it. _Although it would certainly help my pent-up anger._

"I suggest you leave me alone," I said completely monotone.

"Or else what?"

The one brought his pool stick down, but I quickly moved out of the way. He hit the wall, sending a shuddering pain through his body. The other went to swing but missed completely. I brought my fist up to meet with the one's jaw. He put a hand to his face and cursed at me. The other threw his pool stick down and charged at me. I flopped down on my back and kicked him backwards.

"I hope you ain't havin' all the fun without me," a familiar voice called out.

We all stopped to look, none other than Cass was standing in the doorway, her shotgun pointed at the two goons. They mumbled something inaudibly and sulked away.

"Cass! Holy shit! Imagine seeing you here!"

"Yeah! That old bitch McLafferty bought Cassidy Caravans for a whole fuck ton of caps. Hope she knows it ain't nothing but ash," she knocked back a shot of whiskey.

"That's fucking sweet. I have something to show you, though," I said, practically dragging her to the Lucky 38.

I pulled out the key and she gasped in surprise, "no fucking way! How'd you get that?"

"Mr. House invited me in. Wanted me to do a big mission for him, right into the heart of the Legion. Told him no. He insulted my tribe and said he'd kill me, so I killed him myself."

"Holy fuck, you really are as tough as they say."

"Oh no. Have there been more radio broadcasts?"

"Mr. New Vegas is saying you went on a hell-bent trip to somewhere in Utah, and that you killed everyone and everything that got in your way. He also said you gained access to the Lucky 38, and shortly after, Mr. House passed away."

"Oh great, so he's making me out to be a fucking murderer?" I hit the suite button on the elevator, "oh, by the way. I have two other people with me. Veronica and Boone. Veronica has been like my mom since everything's gone down. And...Boone..."

"Uh huh," Cass threw me a smile, "I can already tell, girl."

I felt my cheeks redden as we stepped out of the elevator. Boone just happened to be passing by, and swept me up into a hug. I was always afraid his large frame would crush my tiny body. With so little food, how did he stay so big? I caught Cass smirking as me out of the corner of my eye.

"Who's your friend?" Boone asked.

"Her name's Cass. Cass, this is Boone."

Sitting down in the kitchen, after introductions were made, Veronica blurred around the kitchen, making food. Boone had a beer and a cigarette, and Cass and I had whiskey. Just like before, the whiskey was tingling and burning, blurring my thoughts after only one shot. We recapped Cass on everything that's happened; the NCR killing the Khans at Boulder City, me killing Benny, getting the Mark of Caesar, talking to House and killing him, planning an independent Vegas with Yes Man, going to Utah to see my family, to find out they had been taken by the Legion...

"Wait. The Legion is in Nevada, you're in Nevada, your tribe is in Utah...that's no coincidence," Cass said, voicing what all of us thought, too.

"That's what we all thought, too," I ran a hand through my hair and grasped the Mark tightly.

"Caesar does one thing right...his caravans are safer than houses," Cass said, nursing a bottle of whiskey, "none of his caravans have ever been successfully burned or attacked or anything. He keeps guards with caravans and he keeps more stationed along the routes. If he's guaranteed your safety, no one will touch you."

On the outside, I was fidgeting uncomfortably. On the inside, I was squirming uncontrollably. On one hand, he had my family...what was left of them. On the other hand, I am a woman. Boone was right - just one person couldn't stop them, and I'd practically be sacrificing myself to the Legion.

"Wait a second," Cass was staring holes into Boone and I, "you said something about an independent Vegas...that means you don't support the NCR taking over? I mean, what about you, soldier boy? You telling me you don't support them either? The beret on your head tells a different story."

I shuddered, and Boone put a hand on my back protectively. He leaned over me across the bar towards Cass, "I have my reasons. I love the NCR, they're my family, but they've fucked up quite a few times, and I'm just not sure they're in the position to take anything over," I saw him slightly nod towards me, "and Harley has reasons, too. We don't plan on attacking the NCR. We were going to ask if they'd help us out. Work out a deal."

Cass lowered her eyes at both of us, "you have reasons, but you won't name them?"

"Well. I was at Bitter Springs," he said, slowly. Like the words were getting stuck in his mouth and he had to spit them out, "and...Harley can tell you her story when she's ready."

"Harley...what happened?" Her gray eyes went big and soft, and it seemed like she already knew. I didn't want to tell her. Partially because it hurt to remember, and partially because she seemed genuinely concerned, and I didn't want to have to say anything.

"I...I...Boone?" I turned towards him. His eyebrows raised in question.

"I can tell her. You go get some rest."

It was good in a sense that he could tell I was still tired. That got me out of social interaction, which was the opposite of what I thought I needed. I turned on the small lamp beside the bed; I took most of my clothes off except a tank top and a pair of shorts. Sitting up against the headboard, I pulled my knees up. My head rested on my knees and I wrapped myself in the blankets. There was too much flying around in my head. To go to the Fort or to stay here? Should I have tried to calm Tyler down to bring her back with me? If I got to the Fort, what would I do? I couldn't just leave them there, although I was almost certain it was a trap. Lure me in, taunt me with my family and kill me. Or enslave me. Neither picture seemed good to me.

There was a soft knocking at the door. I didn't say anything, but it slowly creaked open and Cass poked her head in. She asked if I had a minute and I nodded.

"We need a plan. We're gonna go get your family."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen: Breaking Down the Wall

"I don't need anyone else dying," I started, but Cass cut me off.

"Listen, fucker," she playfully punched my arm, "you get shit done. No doubt that's why Caesar sent a Mark for you. And why House wanted to meet with you. I didn't come here to meet the famous Courier to have her tell me she's being soft."

I grabbed the whiskey from her hand and took several gulps. The glare on Cass's face was part play, part give-me-my-fucking-whiskey-back-you-whore. Grinning, I handed the whiskey back and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. The burn took my breath away.

"Drinking to forget," she said with a matter-of-fact tone, "usually just gets me angry. Don't know if you're any different."

She was right. I was getting angrier. If I didn't stop crying and being angry with myself, I would explode. Boone did nothing wrong, I'll admit. I'd never live up to Carla - picture perfect. Maybe I just needed to accept that.

Cass grabbed my hand and slammed my knuckles back in place.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT, GIVE A GIRL WARNING!" I yelled, the pain intense, shooting down my fingers and up my arm.

"Got you away from thinkin' them gloomy thoughts for a second. I was talking to you the whole time and you just had this look on your face like you weren't even listenin'!"

I rubbed my now-in-place knuckles and nodded, "sorry. All I've been doing lately is thinking. But the first order of business is to get my family. Then I can..." I trailed off, remembering that there was an army of securitrons under the Fort. If I could get Yes Man to upgrade them from here, then I'd be able to go there, get my family, and of anything went haywire, I'd just summon my army, right?

When I asked Cass, her response was "fuck if I know." Good, we seem to be on the same level.

Yes Man said he could upgrade them, but it would take a few days and he couldn't guarantee that my plan was fool-proof.

"Absolutely not," Boone was stern. I grit my teeth, but Boone was always logical; "if you _do_ get your family, who knows how long it'll take for the army to get out of the bunker. They could have you all dead. That's assuming_ they're even keeping your family here._"

"They're here," Veronica interjected, "Caesar wants you because you can get things done...and because you have the platinum chip and access to the Lucky 38. Think about it. He's using them as a bargaining chip."

"Holy shit," it dawned on me, "that's...that's why they...my tribe..." I couldn't get the words out, they were choking me, "all because of this fucking thing?"

_Crunch!_

"FUCK YOU IN YOUR MOUTH, CASS!" I yelled as my other set of knuckles were pushed back into place.

"On to business. We've got a Fort to raid," she said.

Boone slammed his fists on the bar and walked away. Fuck. Here he is being all lovey-dovey and then he just punches my bar. Cass gave me a look and I shrugged, although I knew it was because he didn't want me raiding the Legion. If he didn't have a twitchy trigger-finger towards the Legion, I'd bring him with me. I mean, I've got one, too. But I gotta be business-like about things.

I found Boone pacing in the bedroom. He was fighting with himself again. Not out loud, of course. I could see it in his eyes. My cheeks were raw from wiping away tears, so I blinked hard to prevent them from surfacing. He stopped to look at me, my hands behind my head and my elbows holding me up against the doorjamb. The glance was brief, before taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose.

He stomped up to me, not angrily - that's just how he walked - and got in my face again. This was becoming a habit. His eyes narrowed and he pushed an accusatory finger in my shoulder.

"You...you are insufferable! How do I protect you from a horde of Legion?! What more do you want from me? I want to be with you, but I don't want to hurt you. That's why I need time. I need to find a way to love Carla's memory instead of acting like she's just on vacation and she'll come home soon. I need to find a way to push Bitter Springs out of my mind. _I need to find a way to repay my debts_." His voice got quieter at the end, like he was too tired to finish caring.

"Can I call you Craig again?"

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Craig...I think we should revisit Bitter Springs."

"What...why? What would that possibly accomplish?" He seemed surprised I'd even ask.

"Sometimes, seeing things with your own eyes, no matter how hard it is, makes things clearer in the long run." _Very profit-like, Harley_, I thought to myself.

"I don't know if that's the best idea right-"

I planted my lips against his. The whiskey was talking to me again, and I knew it was wrong, but I needed to be comforted and he sure as hell needed it, too. He immediately softened, and placed a hand on my lower back. Fingers were running through my hair, massaging my head and neck. I immediately unwound. I couldn't express my feelings in words if I tried. The kiss wasn't rushed, it wasn't lustful. I placed my hands on either side of his head and broke away to look in his eyes. My stomach fluttered, my heart beat too fast for its own good. I could practically hear his beating, too. His hands covered mine and slowly brought them down to my sides.

"Craig," the name I was just getting used to a few days ago felt alien on my tongue again. I was breathing heavily, "I...I..." The words were stuck in my throat.

"Harley...if you go to the Fort, I'll have no choice but to re-enlist."

"No. No no no no no. You can't do that, you can't..."

"It'll be the only sure-fire way to clear out the Fort. I'll have to get a platoon or two together, a few spotters and a few more first recon men, but we could probably do it."

"But I...please. I need to find my family..." I was on the verge of crying again, using every piece of me to stay together. It was physically taxing.

He put a finger under my chin and lifted it so I was looking in his eyes. They were glassy as well, "I'm trying to change. I want to get better. And you killing yourself will not help."

My hands balled into fists at my side and I noticed they didn't hurt nearly as bad. What am I supposed to do? I have to choose between my family and this beautiful man. And as usual, I could only pick one or the other. He was trying to change, but giving me an ultimatum was not the way to do it.

"You're giving me an ultimatum, Craig. My family or you. I want to be with you. I've never felt this way for anyone before, but I will not let my family be enslaved for it. So if you wanna help, help. But if not...I'm sorry."

He let a gasp escape and the look on his face told me he didn't realize what he was doing. His lips trembled as he kissed me all over my face, soft and lingering. He placed a few pecks on my lips, each one lasting longer than the previous. I let his tongue find mine and he held me. He held me like a child, cradling me like I was glass. And at this point, I was.

The whiskey still burned in my throat, fuzzed over my eyes, and warmed my stomach. I didn't want it to be the only reason anything was happening, and I hated myself for even drinking it.

He scooped me up in his arms and laid me in bed. His lips were all over every bit of exposed skin. My tank top rode up, showing a bit of stomach. Hands were all over me, over my exposed stomach, up and down the outside of my thigh. Every bit of me tingled with pleasure.

This isn't how I wanted it to go down, drunk and melancholy. I pulled away, and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. Blankets surrounded us, and I felt him undressing under the blankets and I absentmindedly traced over his muscles with a finger. There was a sharp intake of breath and he brought my hand up to his mouth, kissing it gently. He slipped his NCR dogtags off (which I hadn't seen him remove since I've met him) and he slipped them around my neck and they dangled in between my breasts. I traced the words, they both said, "Boone, Craig. NCR First Recon. Atheist."

"Atheist, hm?" I asked.

"Hard to believe in a God that allows this kind of world to keep going on every day," he said simply.

I guess he had a point. In the tribe, we aren't taught to believe in a god, or gods, or goddesses – just our ancestors, which I didn't really think of as more than just dead people. As rude as that sounds, I mean no offense to anyone who believes in any religion whatsoever.

Sleep didn't come easy. Maybe because I had already slept most of the day. I'd toss and turn, often waking to find Boone in the chair he put beside the bed. Sometimes, he'd be in bed, just leaning against the wall. Or he'd be staring out the window. Most of the time, his rifle was in his hand. He was ever-vigilante, even with tons of securitrons surrounding us.

I woke to the sun filtering through the blinds that Boone had forgotten to close. My neck was stiff from lying on his arm when he actually decided to lie down. Of course, when I moved, I woke Boone up. He gave a smirk and mumbled a "good morning," before shoving his face into the pile of pillows. The closets were full of Pre-War wear. Fluffy dresses and matching hats, pants suits, pencil skirts, nothing of interest to me. In the dressers, I found plain shirts to wear under my leather vest and clean underwear, bras, tank tops, and shorts.

I picked up a clean bra and pair of underwear along with a T-shirt to wear under my vest. Once in our bathroom, I noticed we had an actual shower head. There was even a closet in there with clean, fluffy towels.

I turned the water on hot and let it run down my tired, aching body for several minutes, plastering my hair to my forehead and back. There was a soft knock on the door. That could only be Boone and he had to know I was in here.

"I'm in here," I called out.

The door clicked open anyway and I peeked out of the shower curtain. He began undressing, throwing his clothes in my dirty pile. _'Holy fucking shit. He's going to shower with me? My boobs are hanging out! Okay, that's how we all walked around at home, but Boone can't see me naked! Okay, calm down. It's only skin, right?_' I said to myself.

At the other end of the shower, the curtain moved, and his muscular frame stepped in. '_Don't look, don't look, don't look_,' I told myself several times. I kept my eyes steady on his face and he did the same. My heart was pounding in my ears. _Goddamn it, why am I so flustered around him?_

He grabbed a bottle of shampoo and began gently lathering it into my hair. Let me tell you, when someone else washes your hair, it feels so much better. I let a tiny moan escape. When he was done washing through my hair, I felt him tangle it through his fingers and pull my head back, kissing me softly. He lathered a sponge and gently washed my back with it, and I did the same to him. I could feel his eyes all over me when I wasn't looking. Not saying I didn't like it, or anything. His fingers lingered, tracing the scars on my back, and then moving up to the back of my neck, around my shoulder until he met with my chest wound. For the most part, it was healed. No more stitches remained, but it was still sore and puffy in areas. He gently traced it, making sure to come close enough to my breasts, but not quite touching them.

While massaging soap onto his body, I found an occasional scar here and there, but First Recon was never in the heat of battle. I could feel warmth rising off my skin, like my entirety was blushing. I've never felt so...intimate about someone before and it honestly scared the living shit out of me.

"You got parts of my back that I can't reach on my own," I spoke the first words since either of us were in the shower together.

He smiled lightly, wrapping me in a towel before pulling me in his arms. The artificially cold air hit us like a slap to the face when the shower curtain was pulled open. It was even colder in the bedroom. I distractedly rubbed warmth back into my nipples, and I saw Boone watching me from the corner of my eye. Hiding seemed like as good an option as any as my face no doubt turned bright red.

"I...I hope you don't think that was weird," he scratched the back of his head.

"Not at all. It was nice to have someone else wash my hair."

"I just...I needed to see you naked, but not in a sexual manner."

"Mm..." I wasn't sure what to say to that. Maybe it was a little weird, but if it helped him get better, the more power to him. We agreed to go to Bitter Springs today and the Fort tomorrow. Hopefully by then, we'd have a better plan for the Legion.

The way to Bitter Springs was mostly quiet. Veronica and Cass stayed behind, chattering like two teenage girls in the common room when we left. Boone offered to carry my duffle bag since it was getting heavy, and I realized how naked I felt without it. When we came close, my Pip-boy made a beeping noise to alert us, and Boone laced his fingers into mine. It was a strange gesture, his hands comically large in comparison to my own. Both of our palms were sweaty, so we loosely held our fingers together. Before we came up on the camp, I pulled him aside, rubbing my nose against his. Every time I did it, he would get this funny smile on his face, like I just asked him to the prom or something.

"If you wanna leave, I understand," I squeaked.

"No. I need to do this."

We walked up the small hill into Bitter Springs, and there were crosses and graves in every which direction. The view when we got there was...staggering. There were dirty, displaced refugees everywhere. Children, women, old people. A lot of them limped around awkwardly and they all looked starved. The camp smelled like straight shit and dust.

"They're all members of the NCR...I wonder why no one comes here to help them out..."

Boone pulled me by my hand up to a ridge. He laid down and took his rifle out, aiming through a small passage way, "this is where we were stationed. The Khans fled through the passage down there," he motioned with a slight nod, "when we got the orders, most people kept shooting. I remember...that's the only time I ever held back. You don't get a second chance in life. One second, that's all your enemy needs, and it could mean your life. But old people and children? I just...they said it was a 'communication error,' which I doubt highly. You saw the way they attacked the Khans at Boulder City. Maybe I should've let you take out that lieutenant...He should've known not to give those orders..." Sitting back on his heels, he looked down at the ground and scratched at his stubble.

"It's...not your fault. Not at all. Whoever gave that order is responsible. You were following your commanding officer-"

"Like a robot," he interjected, "I wonder how many lives I could've saved if I just never pulled the trigger. Would some of them have gotten away? Would they have been gunned down by someone else?"

I rested a hand on his shoulder, "please. Quit beating yourself up over it. It's in the past."

"Ha. Easy for you to say."

"No. It's not. Not at all, and you know that."

"I wish I had a strong mind like you. I just can't let go that easily..."

"I won't let you choke on the noose you've put around your neck."

The smell of smoke burned my nostrils and methodic rhythms were being beat out. Off in the distance, the flickering of torches approached - and fast. In the rays of twilight, I noticed a crimson flag with a gold bull.

My vision went red and I pulled out Romulus. Boone had already set up a good strategic point on the ridge. From the looks of it, they were coming in through the same pass we were looking down on now. One thing I learned was that the Legion uses a lot of bone and wood weapons. So they'd probably all be close range. Something about how Caesar's troops would give their lives for him. Boone popped off four successive shots, and they were still too far away to see anything. I know he didn't miss his mark, though. There were maybe ten more left, including another big fuck with tin armor in the back.

They approached quickly, running at the visions of fallen allies. As they got closer, I shot two rounds; watching one's chest explode and the other's head get blown in half. I ran down off the ledge, and I knew if Boone weren't concentrating, he'd have a problem with it. I know I'd have hell to pay later.

I reloaded and popped off another two shots, right as Boone did, too. Our first bullets sank in the same flesh, and we hit two different people the second time. Five more to go, and they were just climbing the hill. I holstered Romulus and pulled out That Gun. Much better for close range, though I didn't have much ammo for it. I dodged the swing of a machete - just barely - and pulled the trigger, point blank. Boone must've been reloading because there was a long pause before I heard another shot from him. Three more, including the tin-fuck. If I let them get too close, he wouldn't have a clear shot, so I quickly popped off two messy shots at the Legionnaires' feet. I hit one in the shin and he cried out in pain, but the other kept running towards me. Time to reload. I could usually keep a steady hand while moving around as quickly as I could, but that didn't seem to be the case today. My rounds fell on the ground as I ducked out of the way of a swinging cattle prod. '_Come on, Boone! Take the shot!_' I screamed in my head. I heard the shot go off, and it flew through the Legionnaire's head and embedded itself in that asinine tin armor behind him. I rolled out of the way of a much larger and sharper machete. Some rocks swallowed it and he struggled. His helmet had to come off. It would be a lot cleaner for Boone.

I darted towards the lumbering oaf and jumped on his back. His helmet within reach, I grasped it by the ridiculous red Mohawk. I felt large metal hands gripping my leg and I fiercely smashed into some rocks. There was a gunshot, and I was splattered in brain and blood.

My head pounded from the collision with the rocks, but that could be remedied later. There were more torches on the distance. Boone reloaded as much as he could and popped off four more successive shots. I gave them hell with Romulus from a distance, and as they neared, I heard snarling. Dogs. Dogs were leading them into the camp. There were only four, so I leveled two and reloaded. Boone caught another four Legionnaires, and I took care of the other two dogs. Four more stood, all of them running at me at once. I threw my knife into one's skull while Boone reloaded. I was out of ammo for That Gun, so Romulus had to be reloaded now, but I didn't have time. They were too close. There were two machetes nearby, and I quickly scooped them up, tearing into flesh and blood, decapitating the one, and ducking and spinning out of the way of a baseball bat to bring the machete into the last one's calf muscle. I held a finger up to Boone, dropping one machete and holding the other to the Legionnaire's throat.

"Tell me about the WolfPaws," I hissed.

"Fuck you, bitch."

"That's not how we play. Tell me," I pressed the machete deeper into his skin. He hissed and clawed for breath.

"I will die in the name of Caesar before I will the you anything."

"You really wanna die in the name of an asshole who doesn't care?"

"You'll kill me after I give you the info, anyways. So, ave."

"You have ten seconds to live. 10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4," I pushed down harder; there was blood seeping from his neck, "3. 2."

"Okay! Caesar said there's a courier out here somewhere that he gave his Mark to. He said she was weak and killed Vulpes as his back was turned inside The Strip. He ordered a group of men to kill the men and the old from her tribe, and enslave the rest. Sent an assload of men to somewhere in Utah. Not even half the men came back, and those that did said they were good fighters and would be a good addition to the Legion if we didn't kill them all. Caesar said if she doesn't answer him soon, he will kill everyone left. I'm sorry. Please let me go," he cried. He probably wasn't much older than 18 or 19. But he was a slaver, a rapist, a murderer. I brought the blade across his throat and blood gargled in his mouth.

A murderer? Maybe I am no better.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty: Lend Me Your Wings

_From time to time, I'm going to post a __snip-it of a cahpter or a small chapter in Boone's point of view. When I'm writing, it's easier to do it from Harley's, but Boone's a huge talker, so everyone always knows how he's feeling. So I figured I'll give him a spot in the light every once in a while._

* * *

**Boone**

Bitter Springs helped a lot. I wasn't sure what we would find at first, but knocking Legion heads together was a plus. Harley really knew how to push my buttons, but I don't think she was aware. Embracing it. That's what I need to do. Embrace her button-pushing. Before I decided to travel with her, the last time I felt anything was with Carla...and that was three years prior.

I made myself a deal - I could still love Carla. I just had to realize she wasn't coming back. Part of me knew that, but the other part still didn't want to let go yet. In return, I wouldn't shove Harley's face in her memory either. Make her think she has to be Carla. Carla was perfect in her own way, and so was Harley.

And I was lucky enough to share a bed with this woman. Not that we had done anything sexual, but I do love the red glow that spreads across Harley's naturally pale skin when any implications of that come up. Like the other day, when I stepped into the shower with her. My intentions were not sexual. Yes, I did want to see her naked, but it wasn't like I was going to take her right there. It was...I'm not sure. It's hard to explain. She's beautiful, and I wanted to see her naked. It sounds sexual, I know.

It was nine in the morning, and she was snoring quietly beside me. Today was the day we had planned on infiltrating the Legion, we just weren't sure how yet. If Harley could get in there and activate the securitrons (if Yes Man couldn't do it here,) she would have some form of back up if things went to hell. But who's to say they won't snatch her away before she can activate them?

My head hurt from all the thinking already. Coffee and a cigarette. That's what I needed. I scooted of the edge of the bed, and I heard Harley stirring. Figures I'd wake her. She sat up and stretched, my dogtags wee nestled in her cleavage, and her bra strap slid down her arm and allowing a nip-slip. My stomach twitched.

"You...weren't serious about reenlisting, were you?" The first words out of her mouth and they pulled my heart into the pit of my stomach.

"I was...at the time. I just...I'll help you get your family."

"We gotta go see Yes Man, asap."

Veronica was twirling and dancing throughout the kitchen as Cass was already knocking back a shot of whiskey. There was a bar-like table right in front of the fridge and stove, where Cass was sitting as Veronica chopped up vegetables and put them in a pot. She was humming happily to herself as Cass pinched the bridge of her nose.

"She's been like this all morning," Cass said, as we took a seat beside her.

After breakfast, Harley invited me to talk to Yes Man with her. Turns out, he's a big creepy smiling face on a monitor. He told us to make friends with the Brotherhood, the Khans, the White Glove Society, The Boomers and The Omertas.

"Well, the Brotherhood and the Khans shouldn't be too hard," Harley said quietly.

"But there is just one more thing!" Yes Man said, "I cannot upgrade the securitrons from here. They're dormant and will only respond to your platinum chip. You'll have to go to the Fort yourself and do that."

"Can I go with you?" I asked.

Harley's eyes softened. She knew I wouldn't keep from shooting them, and that would turn them hostile against her as well. I didn't want her going alone, though. And he did not give the Mark to Cass or Veronica, so as tough as they are, they'd be slaves, too. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"We can take you there. We'll be waiting outside of Cottonwood Cove. You get in, and you get right back out. Activate the securitrons and see if Yes Man can't program them to attack when you say, if something goes down. They'll most likely take your weapons. If you take longer than three hours at the Fort, we will come for you."

"House has a monitor there that I can jump between. As soon as you activate them, give me the word, and I'll have them attack anyone in Legion armor," Yes Man interrupted.

"It seems like a bit of a stretch," she breathed, her eyes held nervousness.

"If anything goes haywire, we'll get you out."

It scared me, too. I'm willingly sending her into Legion territory? I just hoped I wouldn't have to take the shot again...I mean Carla had no combat experience. Harley knew what she was doing but it's just her against hundreds of slavers. _Jesus Christ, why am I even agreeing to this? It's more than likely a trap._

Her small hand rested on my cheek, like she could tell I was thinking these thoughts. I did need to stop. To find something else to preoccupy my mind. Harley got dressed, wearing her usual leather armor and boots. The knife she kept hidden was deep in her boot and her dad's bandana was around her arm. She wouldn't be allowed to take weapons into the Fort, so she didn't take anything else with her except Romulus.

The walk to Cottonwood Cove took less time than it seemed like, and all four of us kept quiet most of the way. If I wasn't mistaken, it seemed like something was going on between Veronica and Cass. I caught them exchanging glances and blushing a lot.

"Craig...when you're ready, I want to hear all about Carla," Harley whispered and touched my arm lightly.

The way she said my name sent shivers down my spine. The truth was - I didn't know when or if I'd ever be ready. I wasn't ready when she sprung it upon me that she knew how Carla died. I wasn't sure how she knew - she was a lot smarter than she let on. It was almost as though she just had an intuition for the strange and morbid. I just nodded at Harley's question. She would bring it back up eventually.

Cass, Veronica and I made camp on the hill above Cottonwood Cove. There was a large groove in between two rocks, so we rolled out our bedrolls and made a small fire. I wished Harley luck before kissing her softly.

There was a pang in my stomach as she walked away and I knew, in that moment, that _I loved her_. I wasn't sure how to voice it. Just saying it seemed too mundane compared to her distinctive, colorful being. Nonetheless, _I still felt guilty. I felt guilty and unworthy_. For whatever reason, she was attracted to me as well, and that made me apprehensive. She told me she wanted me to be happy. And I wanted to try. For her. I haven't wanted to try in years.

I felt guilty for telling her I'd reenlist. Carla used to have nightmares about me never coming home when I was in the military. I was already enlisted when we met and fell in love. She got pregnant, and I couldn't bring myself to join again. Especially not after Bitter Springs...

The sky turned inky black, and I couldn't see far out, even with the fire lighting things. Sleep would not come easy tonight (like it came easier any other night,) so I told the girls to go ahead and go to sleep, I'd keep watch. They seemed more than happy, and I had to distance myself from the sounds of kissing and suppressed moans. I walked around the rocks, watching what I could see from the hill. There was a light fading in lake, and I'm almost positive that it was Harley was being taken to the Fort. My stomach lurched again. I shouldn't've let her go alone.

I couldn't get far enough away from the girls' noises without making sure they weren't in danger. I shushed them a few times, but if they didn't keep it down, I'd probably actually have to use my rifle tonight. The wind rustled through the trees and swirled up dust. The area smelled of dirt and fire. I made a rock my seat and watched the Legion patrols in the distance through my scope. They were just walking back and forth. Didn't notice our fire or the girls noises, they were just following orders. It almost upset me to put down young kids...they were just following orders, but the more I whittled down Caesar's army, the better I felt.

**Harley**

I didn't want to go alone. Especially into the heart of the Legion. Anywhere else would've been fine, but I felt bad leaving Boone behind. Like I was doing something wrong. At least he admitted he wouldn't hold back killing Legion. Better to let me know ahead of time. I would only make an enemy out of Caesar when I have an army of securitrons.

I put the Mark around my neck and headed down the hill, my breath in my throat. The wind whipped my hair around and all of the Legionnaires around regarded the Mark with squinted eyes. As though they weren't sure to take it seriously. Or wondering if they attacked, would Caesar hear word of it?

"Profligate. My name is Cursor Lucullus. I will guarantee your safety to the Fort. Shall we set out?" A small man in crimson Legion armor with buzzed hair and blue eyes asked.

I nodded, and stepped foot into the boat, already feeling sick. Water scared me. Any time mom would try to get me to swim in the river, I would freak out if something brushed my leg. I remember running to dad, crying. 'Something tried to eat me!' I yelled and cried. He was a teddy bear of a man; large and fuzzy, very cuddly despite his appearance. He said he'd skin anything that tried to eat me, and then he'd tickle me until I was laughing so hard, I'd be crying.

This water was dark. I couldn't see any more than six inches below the surface. My stomach jumped. Drowning was a big fear - just like how I always dream I can't breathe. I think that would be the worst way to go down. Drowning, gasping for air, only to have your lungs betray you and fill with liquid. My head swam and my stomach knotted in protest.

I thought about what would happen if I threw the Cursor from the boat. I don't know how to get to the Fort and he'd probably tip the boat trying to get back in. I drew in weak breaths, and they all disagreed with whatever was in my stomach. It was twisting and turning, threatening to bring up what I had eaten earlier.

The boat ride lasted an agonizing three hours, and suffocating darkness was brought down upon us before we even stepped from the boat. Good thing the Legion liked to utilize torches, or else I wouldn't see a goddamn thing. There were slaves equipped with back packs climbing the hill repeatedly. They wore dresses that looked like burlap sacks with giant red Xs across the chest. Even little girls, no older than four wore the slave collars with the blinking red light - just like in my dreams.

Little boys were outfitted with Legion armor, chasing each other around with fake wooden swords under the command of a trainer. They searched me for weapons and (thankfully) didn't find my knife, but they did take Romulus. I trotted up the hill, some makeshift wooden planks stuck out to make it like stairs. Slaves and little boys passed by. The slaves stared straight at the ground, but the little boys said 'hello, miss.' That really caught me off guard. One day, they'd be slaving Legionnaires, but for now, they were just little boys. I thought back to Boone and his pregnant wife. If he hadn't taken that shot...where would his kid be now?

There were tents everywhere, leaving enough space for walking between. At the top of a ridge, sat a large white tent with a guard and a dog sitting out front. The tent was adorned with red and gold, and its presence loomed on everyone and everything. A little girl with shoulder length red hair and a dirty, chubby face pulled at a strap on my leg. I got down on one knee to get eye level with her.

"I can tell you're not one of them," she said quickly, "I need your help."

Her eyes seemed puffy and red, and there were bruises across her face and arms. I opened my mouth to speak, but she grabbed the Mark that was hanging from my neck.

"You're the courier Caesar has been upset with," she said simply.

I nodded, "yes I am. What do you need help with?"

"I...I can't talk to you anymore. They'll be angry."

"No! Please, tell me your name!" I whispered harshly as she ducked into a tent.

I followed her in and watched her as she drew stick figures in the sand. I heard footsteps behind me, and I turned to see a large, muscled man charging at me. Kennedy yelled in the background, and it seemed like time slowed down. I grabbed the knife from my boot as he reached out for me. His fingernails scraped my neck as the knife lodged into his forehead. _Shit, shit, shit. I just killed someone in front of this little girl._

"I knew you were one of the good guys!" Kennedy shouted and a look of _what the fuck_ spread across my face.

"I try, at least," I sighed.

"That was my daddy. He killed my mom right in front of me a couple years ago and said if I didn't shape up, he would do the same thing," she shook.

_Okay, well I can't just leave her here now. _"Do not go anywhere. Do not talk to anyone. Of anyone does try to come in, tell them your dad is asleep," I pressed my knife into her small hand, "If anyone _does_ get in, do to them what I just did to him. I'm gonna get you outta here. My family is here, and I'm getting them out, too."

"This is a good luck charm," she pressed a bracelet made of colorful beads in my hand and smiled, "it'll help you get your family out safely. Don't worry about me until they get out, okay?"

Tears welled in my eyes as I slid the bracelet on. This little girl, repeatedly abused by her own dad (and probably the rest of the camp,) was telling me not to worry about her. She wanted me to save people she didn't even know before I tried to get her. She had to be the most selfless person I knew and she was probably only nine.

"What's your name? How old are you?" I asked.

"Kennedy. And I'm eight. What's your name? We just know you as 'courier' around here."

"Harley."

"Give 'em hell, Harley," her eyes burned with revenge, and I knew, despite her claims, she wanted to be out of here more than anyone else.

I was still shaken up as I poked my head around before stepping out of the tent. It was too dark where I was to see anything, so I was thankful for that at least.

Caesar's tent was large on the inside, two large men stood on the inside of the first section and there were some more dogs. In the second half of the tent, I saw a large cage with dirty, sick people huddled together. Women and children. A woman with soft eyes and long auburn hair - my mom. Alexis, Audrey, Gabby, Heaven, Zoey, Skylar, Kate, Ella, Emily...

The little girls all clung to their mother's legs and cried. I immediately ran up to the cage and looked my mother in the eye. She looked down and I saw a tear fall. Everyone inside gasped as two large men grabbed me by the arms and pulled me in front of Caesar's throne. A chair adorned with spears and a red cloth draped over the back. I was hit in the back of the legs with a riding crop to make me kneel. My teeth bared and Caesar just smiled at me.

"I see you found what's left of your family. Too bad you didn't show up when I asked you to...you might've been able to save them. But instead, Vulpes delivers you my Mark and you kill him as his back is turned? You thought I wouldn't hear about that? You kill my right hand man in the middle of The Strip. You've got balls."

"Yeah, it's the only way to survive out here."

"I noticed you're not very discreet though. A man nearly kills you and you track him across the breadth of the Mojave and then kill him in his own fucking casino without anyone attacking back? You have nightmares that keep you awake, so you travel out to Utah just to check your family, find out their gone, and you travel back...not sleeping or eating for three days and killing anything that looks at you? You see my Legion flag back in Utah, and march into my camp, killing a Praetorian guard, under my own eyes and ears? And then you just walk up in my tent, not even so much as a hello, before you run over to your family? You've got no respect. But you get shit done."

"Is that what you wanted? To fucking rub it in my face that you have my family?"

There was a set of large hands on me, pulling my vest and tank top off in one swift motion. I didn't bother wearing a bra, (_of fucking course_,) so I was completely exposed. Shivers racked my body, and my nipples immediately hardened, but I kept my eyes locked with Caesar's. I made sure not to flinch or lose my steely resolve. There was a whooshing sound in the air, and a leather whip met hard with my back. I bared my teeth more.

"You are about as tough as they say," Caesar said quietly, "tell you what. I know you're in possession of the platinum chip. I want you to go down in the bunker and destroy whatever House had down there."

"And if I don't?"

Another lash across my back. I took a sharp breath in and I could feel blood seeping down my back. I noticed Caesar had a power fist on. Not like Veronica's...this one emitted electricity when used to punch. And I'm sure the slave collars could be disabled with an EMP grenade. Too bad I didn't use explosives...

Another crack of the whip sounded in my ears and pain shot through my back. "Are you listening?" Caesar shouted.

"I uh. Yeah. No. No I wasn't."

_Crack!_

"Destroy what is down there and report back to me. Did you hear it this time?"

I nodded.

My tank top and vest were thrown on the ground beside me. I turned my back towards Caesar as I donned them, I heard him say, "holy shit. I sent them out...what? Over five years ago to find your tribe. They found you, I see."

"Wait...what?" I turned around to face him.

"I sent two men inside the NCR, a little more than five years back to give you an 'offer' to move your tribe. I just wanted the location. The WolfPaws are famous for being so tough and steely, just like you showed me tonight. I wanted to enslave you long before now, I just never got any info. It just so happens that one of my Legionnaires recognizes your tattoo and hears you talking about "back home in Utah." Knew it couldn't have been too far from the border."

What. The. Fuck. He had been on us since...since five years ago? The men in the NCR were also Legion men? How did they get so far up in rank? I slammed my vest over my body, hitting the wounds on my back, and walked towards the bunker he spoke of earlier. The sigil of the Lucky 38 was on the outside of two large metal doors, and on the other side of the doors, there was a slot just big enough for my platinum chip. I inserted it, and before it was spit back out, the doors began opening. They shook the ground and made a terrible screeching noise. A guard came up to me and said Caesar permitted me to have Romulus while in the bunker. The doors closed once I stepped in, and I went down a flight of stairs. Yes Man appeared on the monitor that was behind another set of doors I needed to open with the chip.

"Okay, so you gotta go down there and put your chip into a computer terminal. From there, just click on the one that says 'upgrade securitrons to mark two.'" And then he disappeared.

I could hear Protectrons patrolling the basement, and even though I was glad to have Romulus in hand, I thought back to Boone and his being overprotective. He has spoiled me too much already.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty One: Stranger Things Have Happened

Protectrons were the least of my worries. Their lasers were not at all accurate and they were very clunky and slow. There were turrets stationed in dark corners, which easily went down as well, if I could stay hidden and stay away, as they blew up when shot at. The real problem was I had no idea where I was going and once I reached level two, my Geiger counter crackled softly. I swore to myself, I didn't bring my duffle bag and _of course_ I had some fucking Rad-X in it.

He said it would be a computer terminal. There were generators in every which direction and I was having trouble getting my bearings. My stomach started doing flip flops and my back burned where I was lashed, which suddenly made me mad. How dare I sit back and let him lash me like a dog? In front of my family. I am weaker than I thought.

My vision started getting blurry, and the more I blinked to get rid of it, the more my head pounded. It felt like my stomach was crawling up through my body to try to get to my throat. Everything was swimming. _What the fuck?_ My Geiger counter made a beeping noise and continued crackling. Under my stats button, it said I had Minor Rad Poisoning. _Why not? Why not let rabid dogs attack me down here, too?_ I finally found the stairs that led to the next level, and I was panting heavily. I felt like my insides were on fire. It seemed like I wasn't getting enough oxygen in my lungs when I breathed, and it felt like inhaling a match. My lungs burned, and I tried to cough it away. I stumbled around, looking for a terminal - which was of course in the last room I looked in.

I slid the chip into the slot. The letters danced around the screen as I tried to steady myself - the Geiger counter beeped again. _Shit. I'm gonna die down here, soon. _ While the securitrons activated, the ground rumbled ferociously. In the room was a large window looking down to the next floor. There had to be upwards of almost a thousand securitrons - or my vision was making me see double. It was a hell of a lot more than I expected, though, and they rumbled as they turned on and were updated. Time for me to go.

By the time I had reached the stairs to get up to Yes Man, I had vomited at least three times - the last one containing blood. I had to crawl up the stairs because my legs were like gel and I was too nauseous to stand anymore. Yes Man's giant smiling face appeared above me as I tried not to throw up again. I laid on my back, taking several deep breaths despite my lungs' burning protests.

"I can see they're all online now! You did an awesome job!"

"At pretty much the extent of my life!" I coughed.

"Oh yeah. Sorry, I should've told you about the radiation. I don't worry about it because it doesn't affect me."

"Well, I'm not made of metal. Fuck. My insides are burning."

"Well the good news is, Caesar is too stupid to send someone down there with you, so he'll probably think you did what he asked. Isn't that great!"

"Sure. Got anything to get rid of this poison?"

"Nope. I'm just a computer monitor!"

"Fuck youuuuu," I hissed through my teeth.

"I almost forgot! Connect your Pip-boy to me. I'm gonna upload a program, and if you need the securitrons in the Fort, just go to the miscellaneous option under your items, and send this back to me. I'll send the securitrons out in a jiffy."

I did as he asked and then laid there for what seemed like hours until my breathing steadied. My lungs didn't burn as much, but they felt swollen and irritated. Standing up was a daunting task, and walking was even more difficult. I limped out of the room, where I had to surrender Romulus again. I hated parting with that fucking gun. The guy mentioned that I looked bad and I thought about punching him in the throat.

"Yeah. Bunker is full of rads."

"Well...here's some water, I guess."

"Thanks." It looked clean enough, and it tingled going down. I gulped the whole bottle, and it helped a little bit. My legs weren't as shaky, at least.

"So, from the rumbling under the Fort, I'm going to assume you've destroyed whatever's down there. Did you get a glance at what it was he had in there?" Caesar looked down at me like I was an ant and he had a magnifying glass.

I nodded, and remembered to kneel again before someone forced me to the ground.

"Holy shit you look horrible," he said and now that my vision wasn't swimming as much, I noticed sores all over my arms. I could feel them on my face and neck, too.

"Rad poisoning," I shrugged.

"Well, someone give her some Rad-Away. Can't have her going around trying to convince people to work for me with sores all over her body."

I felt a prick in the vein of my neck, and slowly, my head stopped thumping. My insides didn't feel like they were on fire, and the sores started healing almost like magic. I still felt like shit, though, as my stomach swan inside my throat. Oh, and my throat was still on fire from puking up stomach acid.

"Feel better? You certainly look better. My next task was going to be for you to get House out of the way. But since you already did that, I want you to go to the Boomers. Suck everyone's dick in that camp, if you have to. I don't really have to tell you that, since you _probably_ will. Just make them like you enough that they wanna join me at Hoover Dam. They've got the biggest toys, and I want them pointed at my enemies when the time comes."

"I...I'll do what you ask. I just have one request."

I heard the whip come out of behind me but Caesar held out a hand, "you come here, thinking you can fucking ask me requests? No. I am the one telling you what to do. When you've earned my trust enough, you can ask requests."

"I blew up what House had in that vault! You could've used whatever it was on your side of the Dam, but I blew it up, just like you asked. Not to mention the fact that in order to do it, I had to get enough rad poisoning to almost kill me."

He nodded to the men behind me, and hands slid over my body to remove my clothing again. I locked my jaw and stared at him.

"Why would I want to use anything House had? And why should I believe you? You've killed too many of my men to earn my trust just yet. Before you _and_ I go to the Dam to assassinate Kimball, you'll get your family back. For now, you've got some running around for me to do."

I shook my head, "no deal, boss. I need to know you won't stiff me."

Another sharp pain as I was flogged again. I winced, the lash overlapped one from early.

"If it's anyone who needs to worry, it's me. You were an enemy of the Legion until I gave you that Mark. Even afterwards, you wiped out two raiding parties with that sniper at Bitter Springs. Tell me...how did two of you take on thirty men?"

"I'm just that good," I smiled wickedly, idly wondering if I was fast and agile enough to dodge all of them at once while repeatedly stabbing them. I didn't have a sniper looking after me today, so my guess was probably not.

"Are you mocking my Legion?" Another crack of the whip. I let out a small whine, my back was covered by now and I knew from past experience that I would be sore later.

"If you let my family go, you have my full cooperation," I said as I looked him straight in the eye, "you can even send a Legionnaire with me to make sure I'm doing what I said I would."

I was immediately able to breathe easy as he sat back and closed his eyes. He was thinking. He rubbed his face and rested his head in his hand.

"I have eyes and ears _everywhere_, Harley Ma'iingan. You disobey me, and I will find you and your entire family and feed them to the dogs. Then, I will personally enslave you. Do you understand?"

_Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I can have my family back? There's no way it was that easy. None. He has something planned. Or he really thinks I'm that afraid of his Legion that I will obey him to the T._

"Thank you, Caesar. I will report back when I have made contact with the Boomers."

"Good. The Cursor will set multiple boats for your trip back to the Cove."

"Ave." The word itself tasted like poison in my mouth, but I held a steady face.

A slave by the name of Siri was summoned to the tent and made to put salve on my back. She complained quietly to me that she didn't have enough broc flower, but had plenty of xander root.

"You're using one broc flower per xander root, right? It won't be as strong, but it will save supplies in the long run."

Her eyes lit up, "oh my goodness, no! I had no idea. Thank you so much for telling me."

The salve stung to the point where I was gritting my teeth and tears stung in my eyes. It was strong with her using the more potent balm. They put a clean rag over my back and I put my tank top back on, staying out of the confines of the leather vest while my back was in so much pain. The cage was unlocked, and my mom ran over and put her hands on my shoulders. Her eyes were puffy from crying and it smelled like they hadn't had a proper shower in weeks.

"Your hair, honey!" She stroked the side of my head, feeling the scar with her long, skinny fingers.

"Got shot in the head," I smiled.

She brought a hand to her mouth as she gasped, "this place is so full of hate...the spirits here are upset."

"Mom, the spirits are always upset. Not a day goes by when something goes right and makes them happy." Spirit Mumbo-Jumbo. My favorite.

"You have one week, Harley. If you do not return, you know what happens," Caesar warned.

I nodded. The girls huddled too close to me for comfort as we moved out. I stopped out front of Kennedy's tent as we moved out, making the group stay further back.

"Kennedy. It's me, Harley," I called in before I pushed the flap aside. She looked at me expectantly, and I was so excited that she was okay. "I got my family, Kennedy. You can come with me. It's a large group, we'll hide you in the middle as we leave!"

"Thank you so much, Harley!" She grabbed my hand as we filed out of the tent. The women in the group looked overjoyed as I brought Kennedy out. We squeezed her into the middle and set off. _ Someone noticed me killing a guard, but not stealing a future slave?_

I was given Romulus back and the Cursor set up the boats to go back to the Cove. Mom jabbed fun at my fear of water, as I clung to the middle of the boat, trying not to focus on the water. Would've been funnier if we weren't currently on a boat in the middle of the water, but whatever. Mom made small talk as Kennedy burrowed into my leg. Anytime mom tried to bring her up, I quieted her. Last thing I needed was for the Cursor to notice her and throw me out of the fucking boat so creepy things could grab at me. Fuuuuckkk that.

Another three hours of a torturous boat ride, and we were back at the Cove. There seemed to be more Legion than I remembered, but I wrote it off. The Cursor helped us get out of the boat, and again the girls huddled close to me. We headed up the hill where Boone, Cass, Veronica and I parted ways.

I could hear the padding of boots on the ground from behind us in the quiet, crisp night. I turned around to see a Legionnaire grab Sandra, the person furthest back and cut her throat open. She slumped to the ground, and a horde of Legion began running towards us.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Caesar is not stupid after all._

I could hear the booming crack of Boone's sniper rifle, and a few fell. Mothers took their daughters and Kennedy and ran to the ridge. Others, like my mom, brandished their fists as weapons. I could see Veronica huddling the girls in between the rocks. Cass was running towards us, her shotgun in hand. Veronica quickly followed, and I saw my mother pick up the machete a dead Legionnaire was armed with.

_Time to fuck shit up._

My mother had run out into the crowd with a deafening war cry and decapitated three Legionnaires before they knew what hit them. Other girls were now equipped with weapons like cattle prods, spears and machetes. Spears flew throughout the air, blood spattered the ground and echoing gunshots were heard for probably yards and yards away. Veronica punched Legionnaires' heads in, Cass stood back beside me as we took turns covering each other - I'd reload and she'd shoot, and vice versa. I could hear Boone's earsplitting gunshots from on the ridge. People from both sides were falling, but it seemed like we had the upper hand. More guns when the Legion only used "mortal weapons," as Caesar called them, put them at a large disadvantage. Every time one of them fell, one of us was armed. We were all good at fighting unarmed from all the training we were put through, but a blade killed faster than fists.

I ran out of ammo, so I pulled the knife from my boot and ran at the now poorly sized Legion raiding party. There were a handful left, and I sunk my knife into one's head, spun on my heel and slashed another's throat. My mother snapped a man's neck, and as she turned to smile at me, a machete dug into her arm.

She turned to the man who did it and bared her teeth, sticking her thumbs in his eye sockets. It made me cringe and shiver as his arms flailed around and blood poured down her hands. I sunk my knife in his chest and he dropped. She smeared the blood across our cheeks, and as the last victim fell, mom and I threw our heads back and howled loudly into the sky. The rest of us, even Cass and Veronica howled as well.

_Yeah that's right. Fuck you, Caesar._

Boone met us halfway down the hill, and put his hand on my back, smiling the widest smile I'd ever seen on his face. My wincing caused him to raise an eyebrow. His hand softly ran down my back, and he could feel the towel underneath my tank top. _Fuck_. No one was watching as he rolled my shirt off my body and peeled the towel off.

"What the fuck is this?" He asked.

"Caesar had people whip me any time I got smart with him."

"You...I knew I shouldn't have sent you out there alone. Did he do anything else?"

"No," I shook my head, "He sent me into the vault and asked me to destroy anything down there. I upgraded the securitrons and since he didn't send anyone down there with me, he thought I did what he asked. Told me to make the Boomers loyal to him and I could have my family back. Didn't know we'd be attacked like that."

His hands were balled into fists at his sides, and he was rigid beside me. _Shit_. He was beating himself up again. Mom saw we were lagging behind, and she met up with us. I tied the towel that was on my back around her arm and nodded at her.

"Momma...this is Craig Boone. I uh...we..." I blushed. How do I explain us to her?

He took off his beret, and before he could open his mouth to say anything, my mother took him into a large hug.

"You are an excellent shot. I thank you for looking after us."

"Thanks. I was a First Recon in the NCR."

The fire in my mother's eyes told him he had done wrong by bringing up the NCR. Our tribe wasn't fans of them after Tyler and I came back. She began to say something with a heavy venom in her voice, but I stopped her, "no momma! Not them. I mean, they're the same NCR, but he had nothing to do with what happened. They were from California, he's from Nevada."

Her eyes softened and she looked back and forth between us. Boone nodded to agree with me, and mom took his hand in between her two small ones.

"Tell me, Craig. Do you love my daughter?"

For the first time since I've met him, his cheeks reddened. He stuttered to find the words. Mom nodded, "I thought so," she smiled. She pulled a chain from around her neck and took the ring off - it was daddy's wedding band. She handed it to him, and gave me her own, which barely fit on her own skinny finger anymore.

"When the time comes, I want grandchildren as well." She let out a hearty chuckle as both of our faces turned a radiant red color.

"Oh…Mom?"

"It's about Kennedy, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I noticed Boone raised his eyebrows, "Could you take care of her for a bit? I'll take her off your hands after Hoover Dam."

"Oh honey, I'd gladly watch after her."

"Thank you," I said as she walked over to Kennedy, whose small face was alight with joy as my mom kneeled down to talk to her.

"Kennedy?"

"I…may have rescued a little slave girl…"

"You adopted a kid, in other words."

"Let's just go home," I said quietly, letting Cass and Veronica lead the way. His hand slipped into mine, and I smiled to myself.

"When Caesar's day comes, I want to be the one to pull the trigger," he whispered to me.

"I have no problem with that," I said.

"I was afraid you wouldn't come back tonight. I kept telling the girls we should go to the Fort ourselves, but they said it was a three hour boat ride there, and we had to give you more than just three hours."

"Well, the bunker was irradiated to hell and back. It felt like my entrails liquefied and I was going to puke them all out. Not to mention the fact that he whipped me until my back was covered. But I'm fine. I'm back."

"I'm so glad you're back. I will never ever agree to that again. Stupidest decision I ever made."

I twirled mom's wedding ring in my hand. It was small and cool to the touch - just a plain silver band. Nothing fancy. I absentmindedly slipped it on and off my finger, surprised it fit.

"Harley, can I tell you something?"

"Sure," I nodded.

"I...think I love you," he said quietly, "and one day, we will get married and have kids and raise them with Kennedy. After all this passes at the Dam," he smiled and blushed again, and I stood there with my mouth agape.

I told myself I wouldn't get too attached...I couldn't. The Mojave is unforgiving, something could happen to either one of us and what would I do then? How would I live with myself? He stared at me expectantly, but the words wouldn't form in my throat.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty Two: Flying Home

"I...I...I..." I stuttered, unable to get the words out. Did I love him? It was a question I asked myself all the time. The truth was, I did. But I didn't want to. Like I said before, it always leads to disappointment. Anytime I tried to express out loud how I felt, my voice would get stuck in my throat. My brain would stop working. Sure, it was easy to do on paper. Everything is easier to do on paper.  
I was almost hyperventilating. His eyes softened as he looked at me and he knew I couldn't get the words out either. It didn't seem like he cared. Just that he knew I wanted to say it. He slipped his hand in mine as we looked around for a shovel to bury our dead. As I scanned the crowd of dirty, war-tainted women all with blood streaks on their faces (even Veronica and Cass) and my heart blew up like a balloon. I was finally back with my family. Kennedy ran around us, trying to help as best she could (even though she was getting in the way more than helping, but it was a nice gesture.) She eventually settled on making me and "Mr. Boone," as she called him, pictures in the dirt.

The sky turned a silky purple as the stars started to disappear and the sun made its way up. Outside the Strip gate, I was amazed when the securitrons let us go through without passports. Then I remembered - they were mine now. There wouldn't be nearly enough room for all of us in the presidential suite, so everyone made a bed on various floors, and I had to remind them at least five times that the securitrons were more than capable of watching over us. No one has gotten in here in over 200 years. Robots were creepy, sure, but they did a damn good job of protecting. They've grown on me.  
In our bedroom (after a long talk with Mom about how even though we had rings, we weren't technically married,) I started peeling my clothes off. There was just one problem – my tank top. It clung to my back with blood and salve and I couldn't peel it off without it ripping the scabs open. I could see the worry in Boone's eyes, and it tore me apart.  
"Maybe if you get in the shower and get it wet, it will peel off?" He suggested.  
I nodded and he began drawing bath water for me. It was lukewarm, as to not bother my back so much. He climbed in and sat down, motioning for me to get in too. _Someone really likes seeing me naked._ Not that I didn't like seeing him, too. And at least he didn't show any interest in sex so far. That was...refreshing for once. _Ha! That's funny coming from you, Harley, _I thought to myself.  
Sitting in front of him, I leaned forward and he cupped water in his hands, pouring it over my back. It stung and I locked my jaw in place, grimacing. He worked the shirt off my back and it still ripped of scabs.  
"I can't believe they did this to you," he whispered, washing my back as carefully as he could.

"I was expecting to be enslaved," I made a tiny shrug, "getting whipped is preferable to anything else they could've done."

"So is that little girl who was following you around your sister?"

"Kennedy?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh, uh…no. Funny story. I _may_ have taken her from the Fort. After I _might_ have slit her dad's throat."

"Holy shit, you have some balls."

"I try."

"I…shouldn't have sent you in their alone. I've been beating myself up about it all day."  
"Stop beating yourself up. About everything. Life is just that. Life. It's completely unpredictable. So please, just stop inviting death and _live._ Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself. The important thing is I got my family back."  
The bath tub was large enough that both of us fit in it, and with extra room. He laid back and I snuggled as best I could into him without hurting my back. We were mostly silent after that, just lying in each other's arms, and it was nice.  
I was glad to finally be in bed. I replayed the day's events in my head and I was unsure of how I survived the Fort and the Cove. Sure, I was covered in lashes, but I got my family back and it was a small price to pay. I had to lay down on my stomach, naked. Mom made some salve and applied it for me, asking Boone to leave the room for a minute.  
"You know how we feel about you in bed with another man. Not married."  
"Yes, Mom. We haven't done anything, I swear. He's really sweet."  
"But he's one of those NCR guys. Does he know what they've done to you?"  
"I told him about it. And he's ex-military. Hasn't been in the NCR for a while."

"Have you told him about Meredith?"  
I tried to shrug, "No. I didn't really think –"  
"Meredith was a big part of your life. And she was such a sweet girl."  
Meredith was my best friend when we were growing up. When we were around sixteen, we started dating. Everyone thought we were super cute together. I noticed not a lot of places around the Mojave encourage homosexuality, unless you're getting paid to. And women don't need to be married to touch each other. At eighteen, she couldn't pass the initiation, and she was made to leave. I never saw her again. That was part of the reason I picked up being a courier...I thought I'd eventually get to see her. Nope.  
"You can tell him when the time is right, I suppose. Should I tell him that we should find him another room?"  
"Nooo," I groaned.  
"Well, you can't just sleep in the same bed as him."  
_What the fuck, seriously. Stupidest rule ever. Are the ancestors going to smite me?_  
"It will be fine. You think he'll risk hurting my back to have sex? No. He won't."  
"Fine. But the second I hear anything coming from this room..."  
"Okay, Mom. Just send him back in here."  
_Geez, treating me like a child_. Mom disappeared wishing me a good night, and Boone reappeared. He sat up against the wall while my head was buried in the pillow.  
"So who's Meredith?" He asked.  
"She was...my girlfriend. Some years back. If you're born into the tribe, you still gotta make initiation at 18. She couldn't, so they made her leave. I loved her," I said quietly, "she was my best friend growing up."  
"I'm sorry to hear that."  
I tried shrugging again. I wonder what happened to her. Her brown curly hair, her pearly white smile, her soft, caramel skin and light blue eyes. She was beautiful.  
"It's okay. What was Carla like?"  
He went rigid and stayed quiet. I was pushing too much and I knew that, but last time he talked about her, he didn't seem as tense. And when he talked about Bitter Springs and we actually went there, I could see his steely reserve physically melting. He felt better. And it made me feel better.  
"Life has a way of punishing you for the mistakes you've made. I'm still waiting for mine."  
"Stop it. We all make mistakes. If Caesar ever gets a hold of me and the only way out is to shoot me, please. Do it. I've seen what they do to slaves and little girls. I don't want to that happen to me. I wouldn't want to be impregnated by any one of those dicks and I wouldn't want to see my son grow up to be one of them or see my daughter grow up to be repeatedly abused and passed around camp like a whore. Spare me."  
I could see a tear slide down his face, and I reached up to wipe it away. He kissed me fingers before laying my hand back down beside me. There was animated talk coming from the bedroom next to us. Cass, Veronica and my mom, it sounded like. My mom could hold scotch down like Cass could hold whiskey, so I'm sure they were having some kind of contest. Veronica always seemed to be excited when people got competitive.  
"I'm gonna go grab you a stim," Boone slid off the bed and disappeared for a minute or two. I had to quietly explain to him that our tribe condones the use of stimpacks. Something about 'it makes you a better warrior to deal with the pain.' The salves helped more than anything other medicine I'd used – except stimpacks. The salves made your wounds instantly scab over and began healing them, but it still took a few different applications. The stimpacks almost instantly healed wounds, depending on how large they were.

Even though we had been up all night and my eyelids were heavy, I couldn't seem to keep them closed. I wanted with every fiber of my being to be in the next room with the three women who were no doubt having a good time. Or I just wanted to be held by Boone. Which didn't seem like it would happen anytime soon with my back so beat up. The door opened as Boone slide back in and gave me the stimpack. My back immediately felt ten times better, and although I could still feel the marks there, they weren't as large or as painful. I sat up, and Boone washed the salve off my back so I wouldn't get it on our blankets.  
I put a shirt on as he stood in front of the window. I came up beside him and rested my head on his arm. The sky was getting darker, and streaks of lightning were crashing in the distance. Thunder shook the 38. I've been traveling around the Mojave for some time and never saw a thunderstorm. They happened all the time back home. Rain pitter-pattered off the ceiling and Boone grabbed my hand, walking me over to the bed. He sat down and pulled me into his lap. There was still sadness in his face, and I kissed his cheek.  
"We should visit the Boomers today," he said.  
"Why? It's pouring down rain. I think we should take a break for today."  
"Because it's much harder to hit a target when you've got rain on your scope and in your eyes."  
_Well slap my ass and call me Nancy. Looks like we're gonna go visit the Boomers_. I stretched my arms up over my head and let out a yawn.  
"After we get some sleep," he said.

The noise in the casino eventually died down around two in the afternoon, a little after I woke up. We decided we would go to Nellis Air Force Base as soon as everyone was awake. Cass and Veronica were already up, excitedly talking about how cool Talia (my mom) is. Most of the women were still asleep, and we had to carefully step around them to get outside. A securitron stopped me, and Yes Man's face appeared.  
"Wait. Don't go to the Boomers quite yet. There's something going on over at the Gomorrah. Just do some recon and let me know."  
I raised an eyebrow. Not what I planned on doing. Recon, eh? Sounds like I'd need a First Recon beret. I grabbed it off Boone's head and he swiveled around on his heel to face me. I was tucking my hair up inside it as the veins on his neck were popping out.  
"Please, give me back my beret," he said in a voice that sounded calm but was definitely strained.  
"You heard Yes Man. I gotta do some recon, boss."  
"You can do it without the beret."  
I pushed my bottom lip out in a fake pout, "but aren't I cute in it?"  
He softened and a smile was hinted on his lips, "you're adorable even without it."  
"So can I wear it?"  
He ran a hand over his bald head and sighed, "I feel naked without it..."  
"So you'll just have to take it back."  
It took him a second to realize I was challenging him, and as he went to reach for the beret, I darted away. He was always right on my heels as I ran back in the 38, slickly jumping over people on the ground and I smacked the elevator button. I quickly ran in, and as the doors started shutting, he put his arm in between so they bounced back open.  
I giggled wildly as he cornered me in the elevator, hitting the emergency stop button. He reached up and grabbed the beret, but instead of putting it on, it fell to the floor and he pulled me into him, his hands held fistfuls of my hair as his lips met mine. I instantly melted into him. His stubble poked my chin, and I laughed against his lips. He smiled, placing a kiss on my nose before we rubbed them together. My heart skipped a beat and my stomach felt fluttery. I wanted him to kiss me more, to hold me like we were now all day and night. Vegas can wait.  
He saw the want in my eyes and put his lips back to mine. He lingered there for a while, until I parted my lips, inviting his tongue in. My hair was standing on end. I bit his lower lip and he stifled a moan. There were goosebumps all over me. No one has ever done this to me before. His hands slid under my shirt and rested on my lower back, just shy of a lash mark. The other hand was in my hair, massaging my head and neck.  
"I love you, too," I whispered against his lips, finally able to answer him after what he said this morning.  
I could feel him smile against me as he hit the button on the elevator. It was so warm being wrapped in his large arms. When we got to the presidential suite, we immediately went back down. We've still got work to do. _Poo._  
"Yes Man said something's going on over at the Gomorrah. I'm not sure what it could be. I've never been there," I said.  
"Well we can't necessarily go in and just shoot the place up."  
"Awe, Mr. Boone, you're ruining all the fun," I pouted.  
"Maybe we should...dress a little more discreet?"  
"No. If something goes haywire I will not be caught without my leather vest."  
He shrugged, and as we entered the Gomorrah, we relinquished our weapons at the counter and wandered about. Women danced on poles as drunken NCR soldiers and Powder Hangers threw money at them. They yelled absurd sexual things at the hookers, and I noticed as we passed by that they all looked incredibly high. Their eyes were either glazed over or bloodshot or both. The place smelled of sweat and fire, from all the random fires in cages. Which made it incredibly hot. The smell made me want to throw up.  
An NCR soldier, drunk off his rocker stumbled up to us. He still wore the armor, without a hat or goggles and his rifle was probably up at the counter. His hair stuck to his head, and his words slurred when he asked me how much for a lap dance. Boone told him to get lost, but he kept at it, throwing NCR paper money at me and telling me to 'get on my knees, whore.' I lost control and punched him in the nose.  
Boone grabbed my arm, "what did I say about attacking the NCR?" He seemed angrier with me than with the guy throwing money at me.  
"That..that...that guy was just calling me a whore!"  
"I would've more than controlled the situation. You do _not_ attack another trooper."  
I noticed NCR soldiers in various stages of drunkenness were gathering around us. Some were actually completely sober, but some were so drunk they could barely walk.  
"Attack a member of the NCR, will ya, mate?" A strange accent came from behind me.  
Boone asked them all to stand down several times. When he got their attention, they grumbled something about First Recon being smug. _I am going to be in so much trouble_, I thought to myself.  
And I was right, as we stepped out into the courtyard, he turned around, his nose was touching mine and he was pushing an accusatory finger in my shoulder. I was up against a wall again.  
"I was _more_ than capable of diffusing the situation. I would've got him to leave you alone. There was _NO _reason to punch him in the fucking face," his hands were on either side of my head.  
"He was throwing money at me!"  
"_I would. have. handled. it._"  
"But I...I..." Tears were welling in my eyes, "he..."  
Boone's hard features melted, "I'm sorry. Let's just put it behind us and go see if we can't find out what Yes Man is talking about."  
Out in the courtyard, there were more hookers and gamblers, and tents sent up with round fluffy beds inside. Some flaps were closed, and the ones that weren't occupied were open. There was a large square pool in the middle of the courtyard that was pretty clean. A few gamblers had their feet soaking in it. A few women walked up to us and tried flirting. One caught my attention. Called herself 'Joana, the mistress that would make all our dreams come true.'  
"Contracted pupils, involuntary shakes. You know, Med-X will kill you fast."  
"I...what? Do I show it that much?" She asked.  
"I'm afraid so. I noticed a lot of the other women around here are drugged up, too. But you seem to be pretty bad."  
"I...I feel so empty. I can't get out of here without Carlitos. And if the Med-X doesn't kill me, Cachino or another Omerta will..."  
"Who's this Carlitos guy?" I asked.  
"He...was an Omerta. We fell in love, but they aren't allowed to mix with people outside the family. Cachino found out, and Carlitos disappeared. Ugh, look at me. The great Joana. Why am I even telling you this?"  
"So Cachino gave Carlitos the boot for loving you?"  
"Cachino lusts for me. He...does things to me. I'm stuck here, I can't go anywhere, and I know that. Carlitos was the only thing keeping me alive, and now I have nothing. The Med-X makes me feel dead inside."  
"Where's Carlitos?" I asked.  
"Who knows? Either long gone or dead."

"I'll look around for you."  
"No one gives me anything for free. What do you want? Sex, caps, you name it."  
"Nothing."  
Her eyes went wide, "thank you. Lemme know if you find him."  
"So we're helping out hookers now?" Boone asked.  
"Well, Cachino is obviously a fucker. No pun intended. This Carlitos guy might know what's going on around here."  
"If we can find him," Boone said.  
"We will. I doubt he went far. If he loves Joana that much, he's sticking around somewhere close, waiting for the right moment to snatch her up."  
"Somewhere like Vault 21?" Boone asked.  
"Well, it's a start."  
The woman at the counter remembered me from a few nights ago. She greeted me excitedly and I asked her about Carlitos. Her voice was immediately hushed as she asked where I heard that name. When I brought up Joana, she looked relieved. Gave me his room key and told me what he looked like, and that we were not to cause any trouble.  
"Well that was incredibly fucking easy," I said on my way down the stairs.  
"I still don't believe it myself."  
We checked the game room, and the two goons were there playing pool again. The one had a massive purple lip, and I smirked as I passed by him. They didn't say anything; just regarded the First Recon beret that silently followed behind me. From there, we were lead down a long hall full of bedrooms, most unoccupied. His room was on the other side but I couldn't resist rubbing it in their faces.  
At the end of the hallway, we found an old kitchen, and when we decided to check it out, who would be at a table? None other than Carlitos.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty Three

_This chapter gets very rated M, too. Figured I'd say something so no one's like "oh noes!" when the time comes._

* * *

On the way back to the Gomorrah after meeting with Carlitos, we made a pit stop at the 38. We dressed in one of the fancy outfits in our closets (as per request of Boone, he didn't want to seem 'too flashy' as we escorted a prostitute out of a tight-knit contract.) Boone wore a suit with nice dress shoes, although he said they hurt his feet. It was much easier to hide his hunting knife in the inside breast pocket. I put on a simple, low-cut dress that cut off mid-thigh and covered my whole back. It was black and didn't have much to it except a little lace at the bottom, and after hearing Boone's disapproval about how my cleavage was showing too much for his liking around other guys, especially with the dogtags drawing attention to my boobs, I put my boots back on and shoved the knife in it.

"Mommy! You look so pretty!"

I'm sure my face was a sight to behold. _Mommy? Does someone have me mixed up? I reeeaaally hope so._

Nope. There was a tug on the bottom of my dress. My cheeks flared up. I threw a desperate look at my mom who was almost pissing herself laughing. Kennedy was staring up at me, giving me an innocent smile.

"Mrs. Talia said I can call you mom, and that makes her my grandma," she smiled a half-toothy grin at me.

"She told you that, did she?" I shot a look at my mom, whose face was red and she was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. I could feel my eyebrow twitching.

"Yeah! And that makes Mr. Boone my daddy now, right?"

_Oh good God. This woman is going to kill me._ I turned to Boone whose mouth was slightly agape. I shrugged.  
"Kennedy, Mr. Boone and I are very busy right now. We'll be back soon, but we can talk about it later. Okay?"

She nodded more than enthusiastically. I turned on my heel and hooked my arm into Boone's as we walked out the door. The breath I had been holding in finally escaped in a loud sigh outside of the casino.

"Kennedy looks a lot like you," Boone said.

"Huh?"

"The red hair, light eyes, little chipmunk cheeks. She's cute."

"Oooh, can we keep her? Please!" I poked fun.

"When...Carla was pregnant, I wanted it to be a girl. Wanted to name her Carla, too. She hated the idea, said it was weird to have a daughter named after her mother, you know? Just the idea of having a little version of Carla who would look up to me as her daddy..." He trailed off.

"For now, Mom has Kennedy. After the Dam, I'll take her off her hands, and we can have as many little girls as you want."

He smiled and slid his hand into mine. It seemed like he was opening up more, which was good. Maybe I should stop pushing him and he'll do it on his own. Everyone has demons and different ways of dealing with them.  
Joana met us in the lobby with not one...not two...but three other hookers trying to escape. Boone and I looked at each other wearily. I was just trying to help Joana, which I figured would be hard enough. At least they all wore these weird veil things or sunglasses so we could barely recognize them. Carlitos was going to meet us in Freeside, so it shouldn't be too far away.

After lots of running back and forth between Joana and Carlitos, we made a plan to meet with Joana in the lobby around midnight. Carlitos would be in Freeside. We were to make a right at the first intersection in front of The Strip gate and meet them at the first intersection there. From there, Joana and all the other hookers are his problem.  
Boone kept his sunglasses on, and the girls all had veils or hats and sunglasses themselves. I was the only one whose face was not covered, so I kept my head down to not give anything away. No one stopped us on the way out. Even as we walked down the street to the gate, no one said anything. As we turned at the intersection, I relaxed a bit. Carlitos was down at the other end, waiting expectantly.

When we reached him, Joana jumped right into his arms, "I can't believe you've made it! I was doubtful at first, but goddamn you really are the courier who gets shit done," Carlitos exclaimed as he reached out to shake our hands.  
"There's someone coming!" Joana yelled, taking cover behind Boone and I. I gave him a knowing glance – they had followed us, just like I thought. And here I am without my leather armor.

"Seems like we found Joana. And goddamn, there's Carlitos, too. We had you and the whore pinned from the start. But we never thought you'd lead us to Carlitos. Thanks, kid," an Omerta thug said from behind Carlitos.  
Before I knew what I was even doing, I pushed Carlitos out of the way and dug my knife in the thug's chest. I was worried about Boone not having his gun, but he slit two throats before I even got my knife out of the guy's chest. _Holy Fuck._ There were two more, and Carlitos brandished a knife as the hookers behind us screamed in terror. The Omertas brought their guns out, and Boone's knife lodged into one's eye. The other took a shot, and from beside me, I saw a burst of blood and it spattered my shoulder and face.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, Boone's been hit._

Carlitos lodged his knife into the last one's throat as his gun jammed and he turned to run away. I turned around and inspected Boone – the shot hit him in the shoulder and he said he didn't even feel it. Whether he was joking or not, he didn't seem to be in any pain and the bullet made a clear path through and implanted itself into the building behind us.

"Holy shit, you just keep impressing me by the second! What do I owe you - I always pay my debts" Carlitos said.  
"About 400 caps sounds good," I said, making a up off the top of my head.

"You don't want a little more than that?"

"Nah."

"I can't tell you how thankful I am."

"Wait," Joana put a hand on my shoulder, "I heard Cachino talking...he said something about getting even with Mr. House. We all know he's dead now, but you have the Lucky 38 and I'm afraid something will happen to you or it."  
"Thanks for the warning."

"It was nothing. I'm gonna take my girls and Carlitos out of here. Get far away. We'll never forget you."

It was still storming outside; the normally black and purple sky was now black and gray, and clouds swirled angrily above us. We were soaked to our cores and I was incredibly fucking cold. A shiver racked my body and Boone gave me his suit jacket. It was longer on me than my dress was and it was already wet, but I appreciated the gesture.  
Back in the 38, Mom immediately rushed up to Boone, inspecting his bullet wound. He told her he was fine, but that wasn't enough for her. After lots of cleaning and putting pressure on it, and applying a salve and a stimpack (when Mom's back was turned,) we were allowed to go up into the presidential suite.

Boone was right behind me as I went into the bathroom. My hair was up in a bun so he could help undo my zipper. His hands were all over every square inch of my body, and as my dress dropped on the floor, he took me into a large hug, kissing every bit of exposed flesh his lips could find. I let a moan escape as my skin prickled with every touch and kiss. We stepped in the shower, and not much showering went on as he still continued his barrage of kissing and feeling. He sat down and invited me to sit on his lap and that's when I actually decided to peek at him. He was hard as a rock, and I'll be goddamned if it wasn't huge.

I kneeled in front of him as I kissed him hard. With every fiber of my being. With everything I had. The hot water was hitting my still sore, but healing back as he scooped me into his arms and carried me out into the bedroom. Again, the artificial air was much colder in the bedroom than in the bathroom, and my nipples somehow got harder. We took turns drying each other off as we kissed every bit we could find. I traced his muscles with my fingers. He reached up and cupped a breast in his hand and I breathed in sharply. I wasn't expecting that at all. He kneaded and nibbled at it and I had to suppress moans, which made me angry. I kissed him all over, and then followed down his chest, until I was on my knees. I took him in my mouth and he immediately moaned. His fingers laced through my hair as he leaned against the dresser. The more he moaned, the more I wanted to, too. After a few minutes, he pulled my head back and picked me up, throwing me in the bed. We were under the blankets, our hot breath sticking to my skin. His mouth found my nipple and he slipped his hand between my legs. He made circling motions, almost immediately finding my sensitive spot. I bucked up against his palm, moaning as quietly as I could. I was almost at the point where I couldn't take it anymore so I pulled his hand away. Must've gotten the idea, because he immediately climbed on top of me, inserting himself inside of me. I breathed in hard; it hurt for a few seconds. We laid there for a while, rocking back and forth, thirsting for each other.

"I love you," I whispered, and I could feel him smile against my skin.

"I love you, too."

He flipped me over so I was on top and he laid there with an expectant look on his face. I began thrusting, slow and deep, his moans were guttural. My head was on his chest for a little bit as he put his fingers in my hair again. He put his other hand on my hip and I sat up, his hands all over my breasts and hips, as he raised and lowered me, again and again until I almost couldn't take it anymore. He threw his head back and I went as fast and as hard as I could, reaching my orgasm at the same time as he did. I fell on the bed beside him and cuddled into his arm.

"I...uh...I didn't pull out," he said, having to clear his throat a few times.

_ Oh shit, oh shit. I did not realize that. Okay, it's totally cool. No reason to freak out._

"That's okay," I said, more calm than I was on the inside. _Why am I even freaking out? We already have Kennedy to look after._

I came out from the bathroom and Boone had an ashtray nestled in his lap as he sat up in bed, watching TV. I slid in beside him and made a sour face from the cigarette smell. He stubbed it out and put the ashtray on the windowsill beside him, lying down and inviting me to cuddle into him.

It was still dark out, and the bright lights of Vegas filtered through the now open blinds on the window. The space beside me was empty, and Boone was standing at attention in his boxers, rifle in hand. He seemed upset, so I figured if he wanted to talk, he would. I sat up and he briefly glanced at me, not taking his full attention off the streets of Vegas. He sighed loudly and sat at the chair beside the bed. We stared at each other for a few minutes. There was a worry in his eyes and I could tell he was thinking about earlier. A little voice in the back of my head said not to push - he would talk when he was ready.

"_Come here, little girl, I want to feel every inch of you."_

_The dark was suffocating. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face. I couldn't run; it was like I was surrounded by walls. Every time I took a step forward or backwards, I would run into something blocking my way._

"_You're not trying to leave are you?" The voice was deep, guttural. I couldn't place my finger on it, but it did sound familiar._

_The clicking of feet in nice shoes on tiles filled my ears. I could feel whoever it was getting closer. My fingers were frantically searching the walls, for something – anything. I just barely got a finger on a light switch, but I couldn't step outside my boxed in area._

"_Come on, if you just accept it, it won't be as bad."_

_I was breathing heavily, contorting my body to get just a quarter of an inch closer to the light. The tip of my middle finger flipped it up as hot breath that smelled of stale cigarettes was on my face._

_The breath caught in my throat – it was Boone, but he was wearing the ambassador's clothes. His voice wasn't as monotone as it usually was. He smiled wickedly at me as his large hand wrapped around my throat._

I bolted awake, trying to catch my breath. I woke Boone up, too, as he was sat sleeping in the chair, his rifle still in his lap. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. The "good morning" he whispered to me was still thick with sleepiness, before he put his rifle away and attempted to snuggle back into bed.

"HARLEY SAGE MA'IINGAN, GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!" Mom knocked on the door.

_Oh no. She used my full name. I am in some biiiig shit. Mom never uses my full name_. Boone raised his eyebrows and I shrugged. A tank top and a pair of shorts were my choice for the day as I quickly threw them on to answer the door. The bathroom door shut so Boone could hide in there as I opened the door.

"Hey, mom, what's-"

She clenched my throat in a death grip and shook me fiercely, "how DARE you break our rules! You have known since you were young how we cherish them! You were allowed to be with Meredith because you are women and are incapable of mating. But you and Craig are man and woman and should have been wed before even thinking about it! You endured the induction ceremony knowing of our rules, and yet, you break them. The chief's daughter! I am ashamed of you."

I grabbed her arm and squeezed it hard. I didn't want to hurt her, just make her let me go. It was hard to breathe as her skinny fingers dug into my throat, cutting off my air supply. I was lightheaded.

"Every one of your fingers should be broken. As per tradition."

I hated myself for the idea, but I pulled back and threw a punch to my mother's stomach and she doubled over. The look on her face was hurt mixed with anger.

"I understand you are upset, Mom. But if you attack me again, I will attack back."

She scowled at me, hard and stern. Who cares about that rule? Kids are born and die out here every day. Parents leave and die out here, every day. What does it matter if we are married? The door opened a tiny bit as a small chubby-cheeked, red haired girl pushed the door open. I sighed loudly, I forgot I would have to deal with this.

"You said you would talk me last night, but it was late when you got back," Kennedy pouted.

I took a seat on the ground and pulled Kennedy on my lap. I brushed her now-clean hair out of her eyes and looked at her with the most caring look I could muster.

"Okay. So you want to call me mommy or is that mean Mrs. Talia making you?" I saw mom shoot me a dirty looked and I smirked.

"I know you guys aren't really my parents, but I don't have a mommy or daddy anymore. You and Mr. Boone seem like nice people."

I breathed in deeply. She didn't have anyone else to go to. Her dad killed her mom and her dad was killed by yours truly. What a great first impression. '_Oh, hey there, kid. I slit your dad's throat. Wanna come live with me in the casino whose owner I also killed?_' Holy shit I am such a bad example. I rubbed my forehead, and out of the corner of my eye, Boone was offering Mom a hand to help her out of her sitting position of the floor before taking a seat beside me.

"Okay, Kennedy, here's the deal. You know how Caesar's Legion is going to attack the dam?" I asked and she nodded in response, "Okay. Well, they're bad people, right?" Another nod from Kennedy, "Mr. Boone and I don't want them to have the dam, so we're trying to get people to help us stop them when they try to take it over. For now, I want you to stay with Mrs. Talia. Okay?"

"She wants me to call her grandma."

"Okay, but will you stay with her until we beat Caesar at the dam?"

She nodded, "and you will win because I have you a good luck charm!"

"That's right. It helped us get out of the Fort safely, and we beat the Legion when they attacked. And it helped last night with another casino. I haven't taken it off since you gave it to me."

"I'm glad it's lucky for you. It didn't help me much."

Boone finally spoke, "well sure it did. You met Harley and she helped you get out of the Fort. You're with us now. And we'll protect you."

Her eyes lit up when Boone spoke in a fatherly voice that reminded me of my own father. He would be a good dad when the time comes. I still had to see what was up with this Cachino character. My mom was still angry with us, giving me dirty looks every time I saw her. Kennedy seemed happy enough with me pushing the question off until later. I wasn't ready for that, but I couldn't leave her at the Fort. Who knows what they would've done to her? How would I live with myself after that? Mom said she didn't care about taking care of her for now, so it seemed okay...for now.

I had strapped on my leather armor before going anywhere again, and in the Gomorrah lobby, I walked up to a tall woman in heels with her dark hair curled around her face. She stood behind a desk and looked bored. I held a hand up to Boone, and he lingered back.

"Hello, how can I help you today?" She asked.

I put on a seductive smile, "I'm sure you have all the good dirt around here."

"I sure do," she giggled, "but loose lips sink ships."

"Oh honey, I'd love to help loosen those lips."

"Well, you asked nicely. And I'm not sure I can resist those pretty eyes...ask away."

_Yes_. "Can you tell me what the Omerta are up to?"

"Well...you'll have to talk to Cachino. He's the lowest level lieutenant. I've heard he's been in some business the Family wouldn't appreciate. I'm not sure what it is, exactly."

"Thank you, doll," I winked at her as I walked away.

"You are very smooth with the ladies," Boone said as I approached him.

"I try. Anyway, the only thing I know now that I didn't before is that Cachino is a lieutenant. She said he's been doing shady shit the Family wouldn't like to hear about."

"So let's go find him."

I walked up to a few hookers asking where Cachino was. Most of them were too high to answer. A few were rude and told me to get lost. We went to the Brimstone level without any more information. I didn't even know what the fuck he looked like. Boone sighed, and his eyes were distant.

_Today is going to be one of those days..._


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty Four: Snakes

"Hey, fuckwad, I heard you been asking about me," a voice came from behind, "you better start talking and I mean _real _fucking quick, or I'll bloody your nose all over this room."

Boone looped around behind the guy who I suspected was Cachino, but he wasn't paying any attention to the First Recon.

"Yeah, I have been asking about you. I've been told you're into some shit that the Family wouldn't really appreciate."

"Where the fuck you hear that?" He asked, lunging towards me. I noticed Boone had a small black book in his hand and a set of keys. I dodged out of his way.

"Pretty quick to attack for someone who's supposedly not doing anything wrong," I taunted him.  
"What do you know?" He asked.

"Well lookie here," Boone was leafing through the black book, "lots of selling guns and weapons behind the Omerta's backs. 'This will be my last' ends almost every entry. Lots of talk about that Joana prostitute, too."

Cachino patted his pockets and a worried look spread across his face, "oh shit man, where'd you get that?"  
Boone shrugged.

"Well, look. I really need it back, okay?" He sounded desperate.

Boone tossed it over to me, Cachino wildly grabbing for it. A hand rested on his shoulder, and even though he was a big man, he was no match for Boone and he stood there quietly as I read through his journal.

"My oh my, you do have quite a collection here," I slid it into a pocket on my side.

"No, please. I'll even buy it from you!"

I shook my head, "Nah. It's cool, boss. I wanna keep this for future reference. Now what is this I hear about taking over The Strip?"

"Oh! Big Sal and Nero, the big-wigs, are planning that. I'll help you undermine their operations if you give me my journal back."

"No can do, boss. But you're still going to help."

"Like hell I will."

Boone squeezed his shoulder and he let out of yelp, "fine. I'll help, Jesus Christ, just don't break my shoulder bone."

"Okay, buddy. Lead us to Big Sal and Nero."

He grumbled under his breath the whole time as he led us down a hall and into an elevator.

"Your friend back here is quiet," Cachino said in an attempt to make small talk.

"He prefers it that way. Makes it easier to get stuff done."

We stepped out into a room that was half as big as the casino itself, big, plush circular beds were all over the room with silky pillows and bed sheets. There were stripper poles in various places, and a few beds were taken. There were felt benches against walls and fake potted plants scattered throughout the room. It was...strange, to say the least. We walked through the room and into another. A black man with a messy head of hair and a thick mustache was puffing on a cigarette.

"Hey, Troike," Cachino greeted him.

"Hey man, what's up?"

Cachino got real close to him and whispered, "We're taking down what the bosses have planned."  
"What the fuck man, you trying to get me killed? You know they still have me pinned from that prostitute."  
"What prostitute?" I asked.

"One night, a prostitute and I were partying. Did some chems and all of a sudden, I black out. I've never blacked out before, and when I woke up, there was a knife beside me and I was covered in her blood. She has stab wounds all over her, so I started screaming. A few minutes later, their soldiers are in here, cleaning the mess up. Said they'd forget it if I could get them a lot of guns at a deep discount."

"You've never blacked out before?" I asked.

"No."

"Ever done drugs or drink too much?"

"Not to the point that I blacked out!"

"Well what were you doing that night?"

"Cut up some Buffout with Mentats and washed it down with whiskey," he said as though it were routine.  
"That's not nearly enough to make you black out all night..."

"I...I guess not. That's usually a standard Saturday night for me."

"If it's standard, you wouldn't have blacked out. I think someone's blackmailing you."

"Yeah...you think Big Sal and Nero are doing this?"

"Probably," Cachino said.

I nodded in agreement and offered to get him out of his contract. Cachino led us up to where Big Sal was leaning against the wall.

"Hey, so you're the pretty broad that's been running around with Cachino, eh? What can I do for you?" He asked. _Broad? Did he just call me a broad?_

"I wanted to talk to you about Troike."

"Troike? What's he want? A few girls? Some Jet? Maybe a few guys this time?"

"I talked to him about what happened and his story doesn't add up."

"The fact that he's a murdering Jet-Head? Everyone knows that, doll."

"He _wasn't_ on Jet, not that _he_ knew of anyways."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying he _was not on Jet._ Unless you drugged him."

Cachino made a violent sighing sound behind me. Big Sal's eyes went wide, and he knew he slipped up, "Listen, kid. I know what you're trying to imply, and I really don't fucking appreciate it."

"Then if he's such a Jet-Head, get rid of him. It's more trouble than he's worth to keep a murderer around."

Big Sal leaned his head back against the wall and closed him eyes. He sighed loudly, "Fine. Tell Troike to hit the road."

"Your contract is null and void now," I said to Troike as I bounded down the stairs.

"Holy shit! You are truly amazing! Okay, I'll help you, but I'm getting the fuck outta here as soon as I get the chance."

"Okay, so what can you tell me about the weapons?"

"They're keeping them in the utility section of the basement. They're arming themselves for something, but it's not for the good of mankind," Troike said.

"It's because they want to take over The Strip," Cachino interrupted.

"Alright," I said, "How do we take care of the guns?"

"As a little side project, I've been making Thermite. It's as hot as the devil's asshole and burns _everything_ it comes in contact with. I've been keeping it so if the Family does anything to stiff me, I can do some decent damage before I end up dead or in jail."

"Okay, so you just want me to put the Thermite on the gun crates, right?"

"Yeah. Here's the Thermite and the key for the room they're in. Place it generously around the room so it gets everything when it catches fire. I've rigged the one light switch outside the room to set off a big spark when flipped. Make sure you're out of the room and the door is closed, or you'll toast yourself, too. I'm leaving, like right now. I don't wanna be anywhere on The Strip when they find out what's happened."

Troike left and I, followed by Boone and Cachino, went to the utility room, which was conveniently right next to the room we were in. I unlocked the door, and followed the steps down to another door. Behind there, there were large crates of guns and missiles and missile launcher.

"Well, if we're gonna blow it up, might as well take some of it first," I said, picking through the boxes. I picked up a large, Scoped Rifle and handed it to Boone, "You're the man with your scoped rifle. I'm not sure if this one is better or worse, but having another can't hurt, right?"

He nodded, and I handed him the rifle and some .308 rounds. He looked down the scope and nodded again. The next footlocker had an Assault Carbine and a few 5mm rounds in it, so I took that to arm myself with. The Thermite was a weird red and black powder, so I sprinkled it around the room, putting large heaps on the big yellow crates around all of the footlockers in the room. We exited the room and I made sure the door was shut tight. Boone asked me and Cachino to go to the end of the hall, and he would set the light switch off, with some protest from me of course. He hit the switch and booked away from the door. There was a loud blast and the floor shook with an incredible power, which almost knocked all of us over.

"Okay, Cachino. Here's the next step of the plan. Tell the bosses that you found all of the weapons blown up and you know who did it. Get them together in the same room, and bring me in."

"What about me?" Boone asked.

"I mean, you can come, too. But I'm pretty good at talking to people, and I have a plan in the back of my head."

We followed Cachino up a few flights of steps, into a cushy room with a couple of desks, a chair and a couch around a coffee table. Filing cabinets dotted the room and I noticed a safe behind one desk. We sat down on the chair and waited for Big Sal and Nero. They appeared through the door a minute later, with Cachino in tow.

"So I assume you know why you're here, in our office right now?" Big Sal asked.

"I heard you lost some guns," I tried to hold back from smiling.

"Yeah, we fucking did, smartass. You put our plans back a bit, but that shouldn't hinder us too much. But nothing you did made a difference, and you're going to die a failure."

"As a last request, will you tell me more about your plan?"

"Are you fucking serious? You didn't even know what the plan was? Jesus Christ. I guess I can tell you. Caesar asked us to provide a distraction on The Strip. So when he gives the okay, we're going to launch an all-out attack, so they can get through the gates. We're gonna blow the Embassy, and then use soldiers to kill every last motherfucker on The Strip. That way, we'll run everything around here."

I looked around, putting a confused look on my face, "That is not at all what Nero told me when he convinced me to take you out."

"Nero, you fucking snake!"

Big Sal and Nero pulled out guns and started shooting at each other until Nero was a bloody pile on the floor, and Big Sal was pretty fucked up. Had a couple holes in his shoulder, one in his stomach and one in his chest. He was having a hard time breathing and was groping for his gun that was just barely out of reach. I stood up, and I heard a gunshot behind me – Cachino fell to the floor.

I shot Boone a confused look, and he just shrugged, "What I read in that journal…he was no better than a Legion member. The way he treated that poor Joana girl…"

"You…you fuckin' set all of us up…" Big Sal's head was bobbing up and down, like he was catching himself from falling asleep.

"Ding ding ding ding! We have a winner!" I smiled down at him.

"If I…wasn't dying…I'd ask you…to work…for me."

_Is he trying to say I'm like him? That we'd get along?_ I shook my head, and as he fought for breath, slumped against the wall, I smashed his head against the wall as hard as I could beneath my boot. Blood and bone shot out from under my foot, and stuck to my boot. My hands were balled into fists, and I stood there shaking. _He's right. I'm a snake, too. I'm no better than him, or Benny, or Nero, or Cachino. If we teamed up, we'd be the Dream Team. Just a bunch of snakes running Vegas._

I picked up the pistols Nero and Cachino had on them and walked down to the Casino level. The Assault Carbine was still on my back, and the ammo for it jingled in a pants pocket. I fired a warning shot into the ceiling, and Boone stood behind me, looking down his scope at everyone. The gamblers let out loud screams, the cashiers hid behind their counters and the Omertas brandished their guns.

"That's not a good idea," I said as gamblers filed through the doors, "I just took down Cachino, Nero and Big Sal, so it's just us and you. You can try attacking, if you want, but I've set bombs around the casino, and I've got a trained First Recon with me. Not to mention, I'm not a bad shot myself." I totally lied about the bombs part. Not sure where that came from.

"What the fuck is your deal, lady?" The one asked.

"Your bosses were planning on blowing up The Strip and letting The Legion come in here and kill all of you. I'm gonna be nicer than them and let you all leave."

Their eyes went wide, and I could hear a few mumbling; "The Legion? That's some shit" and "Blowing up The Strip? This is our home."

I nodded, "I'm not making this shit up. Couldn't if I tried. You are no longer under Big Sal and Nero's thumbs. Go on, get out of here."

The last of the prostitutes were making their way out the door as the other Omertas stared at us helplessly. I could tell they were all fighting with themselves. To kill me or not kill me? They had no bosses anymore, and they knew that. I think they also knew they'd all kill each other vying for the position Big Sal and Nero held. After a few lingering minutes, they grumbled to themselves as they all left the building. We looked around – completely empty.

"Looks like I found my family a new place to settle," I said quietly.

Boone was quiet as we made our way back to the 38. He hasn't said much today, and as much as I wanted to ask him, I had to keep reminding myself that pushing him would not help. Kennedy clung to my leg as soon as I came through the door.

"Look! I drew you and Mr. Boone!" she held a picture up to me.

It was a couple of stick figures, I had long, red hair, and a big smile on my face. Boone had a red smudge on his head, which I guessed was his beret. He was carrying what I thought was his rifle and had a frown on his face. There was a big pink heart in between us.

"Why is Mr. Boone sad?" I asked.

"Well, I noticed he's always sad. Not that he's not happy with you, Miss Harley, but I can tell something is bothering him. Like…he can't decide if he wants to be happy or keep being sad. I think he wants to be happy, but the reason he's sad is still…with him. He feels like he'll be letting the reason he's sad down if he's happy. That's what I think, at least."

Holy shit, she's only eight and she's smarter than most adults I know. Like she has wisdom beyond her years. I kneeled down to get face-to-face with Kennedy, "Thank you for the picture. I'm gonna hang it in our room."

I brought her into a hug, and she put her lips to my ear and covered her mouth with her hand, "Is he okay? You tell him that if there's anything wrong, I'll talk to him. I'll draw any picture he asks me to!"

"Well…Mr. Boone is sad because he had a wife a couple of years ago," I said quietly, "and his wife was going to have a baby. One night, when he wasn't home, the Legion took her away. They were going to sell her and the baby into slavery. When he found her, she was surrounded by Legion and he couldn't get to her."

"So what happened?"

"Mr. Boone took the shot, and killed his wife so she didn't have to be a slave."

She was quiet for a few seconds as she played with my hair, "He did the right thing. I didn't like it there. She wouldn't have either."

"Well, that's why Mr. Boone is sad. Because he couldn't save her and had to kill her instead. So, be as nice as you can to him, okay?"

"I would never be mean to Mr. Boone!" She pulled away and sat down on the floor in front of me, "I really like you and Grandma and Mr. Boone. Grandma is teaching me how to read and write!"

"Did you know she used to teach school?"

"Really!" Her eyes lit up, "Does she have any books?"

"Well…no. We came from far away, so we didn't bring any with us."

"Well, that's okay! There are some around here we found. Although, they don't look like kids' books…"

I nodded, "She's a good teacher. She taught all of the boys and girls where we lived to read and write, and she taught us all about history."

"I'm excited for Grandma to teach me!"

"She's probably excited, too. She loved teaching and she hasn't done it in a whole."

I checked my Pip-boy – it was seven. I sighed and went back up to the suite to change. Boone said he wanted to stay upstairs while I was going back downstairs to talk to Kennedy. She was so sweet.

"Why did you tell her about Carla?" He asked. He didn't seem angry or upset, just curious.

"I'm not sure. The way she said she knew you were always fighting with yourself…well, she's right. She's only eight and she's smarter than a lot of people I know. If we're going to look after her, she probably should know."

Boone nodded, comparing his new rifle with his old one. I shut the door quietly behind me as I went back to the casino floor. Kennedy gave me a handful of crayons, and I drew a picture of her as a stick figure – let's face it, I am no artist. She was excited and said it looked just like her. She told me all about her mom, Zuri – she was a tribal from Arizona and was captured by the Legion when she was young, and forced into marriage with her dad, Zack, when he became a Praetorian guard. Her dad was violent and would always hit her mom, but he didn't touch her until after her dad got too drunk one night and choked her mom to death.

I told her all about my teddy bear of a dad and how he was big and burly, super cuddly and he was always nice to Mom and I. She nodded and said 'Grandma' talked about him all the time and he sounded like he was the best dad in the world. I nodded idly, and she said she hoped Mr. Boone would start to feel better soon so he could be awesome like my dad. For a second, that kind of hit hard. I was forcing him to take care of this kid he didn't know, and for all I know, didn't want to take care of. Not that I was forcing him right now, but after the dam, we were taking her off my mother's hands. He hasn't said anything against it yet…not that he's said much of anything today.

Mom came up and sat down with us. I told her about how we cleared out the Gomorrah, and before I could say anything else, I was immediately scolded.

"Honey…you shouldn't have killed those men," She scolded.

"If I didn't, they were going to bring the Legion in here," I hissed, "Do you think the rest of the girls or Kennedy want the Legion around them? I brought you guys here to get away from the Legion."

I sneaked a peak at Kennedy – she seemed to be immersed in her drawing. Mom's eyes went wide and she nodded, "Sorry, honey. I didn't know."

"Anyways, I was thinking, sleeping on the floor sucks, right? Why don't you take the girls over there, clean the place up and call it your own? Maybe you guys could re-open it as a casino or a hotel or both. Or not, if you just want the place to yourselves."

"Miss Harley! That's an awesome idea! Can we do it, Grandma?" Kennedy asked mom.

She scratched her head, but before she could get a word out, a securitron rolled over to us, "Harley, this is urgent."

"Okay…"

"Some other securitrons are saying that there is a Mr. Boone standing on the edge of the roof."

_What. The. Fuck._


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty Five: Doctor Harley, Reporting for Duty

Kennedy had a look of worry in her eyes and she was the first one to stand up. It took me a second, but I got up, not sure if I should go outside or try to get to the roof from inside.

"Mom, you keep Kennedy here."

"But Miss Harley, maybe I can talk him down?"

_I mean, I guess. _"Okay, but we gotta be quick."

We ran into the elevator, and I asked the securitron in there how to get to the roof. He said to try the Cocktail Lounge, so that's where we headed. If we took too long...I feared the worst. My brain was thinking of all different reasons as to why this was my fault – _you should have talked to him. You knew something was wrong_. Yeah, I did, but I also knew if I pushed, he would distance himself again. _That's a shitty excuse and you know it. You're an asshole who won't let him vent his fucking feelings. Now he's standing on a ledge of a roof on a pretty fucking tall casino. _Look at me, fighting with myself like Boone. The elevator stopped and Kennedy rushed ahead of me, looking around - not at the windows, but behind the counter.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I headed over to the large, rectangular windows that were larger at the base than at the top.

"The windows are a weird shape. They probably are opened with a switch."

Oh. Okay. "First we need to find him."

"This is the only level with windows anywhere near a ledge, so he had to have gotten out from here. Aha!" She exclaimed as she hit a couple of buttons. Every few windows popped open, and I immediately ran over to the closest one. Kennedy started looking, too.

It wasn't long before I heard Kennedy yell, "Mr. Boone!" And I rushed over to her.

"Craig! What are you doing?"

The roof was shaped like a roulette wheel, so he had to have opened the window and stepped down to the next ledge. The windows must be on a timer to close on their own. There was fear in his eyes, and his big feet didn't even fully fit on the ledge.

"I'm sorry Harley. I love you, but...I just can't keep living like this," he looked up at me.

"Craig Boone, you get back up here right now and stop talking like that." _I sound like my mother._

He took his eyes off of me and looked into the broken streets of Vegas.

"Mr. Boone!" Kennedy cried beside me, "Please don't do it! I didn't know your wife, but she wouldn't want this for you. She would want you to remarry and have kids. You'd want the same for her if you died. She doesn't want you to be lonely. She's not upset with you because you're with Miss Harley. She's happy for you. You're getting a second chance. Don't throw it away - embrace it. You would want the same for her. Please, come back up here."

The look in Boone's eyes was half melancholy, half _what-the-fuck_, which I'm sure mirrored my own expression. She's incredibly smart. I'm starting to think she's a 40 year old woman trapped in an eight year old's body.

It was a few minutes of Boone staring hopelessly downwards and me praying to whoever that he would not take that jump. Kennedy put her little hand in mine and it seemed like hours passed as we stared down at him, helplessly waiting for his choice.

His hand reached towards mine and he carefully changed his footing on the wet ledge so he could climb back up the roof. He climbed back in the window and they shut on their own. My hair was sticking to my forehead and the back of my neck. The sticky Nevada heat and humidity replaced the feel of the cool air when the windows were open. I was shaking; I could feel it bouncing from Kennedy's little hand, back into my bones.

"What the fuck was that all about?!" I yelled as he sat on the windowsill.

Kennedy squeezed my fingers in a death grip as if to tell me not to yell at him, so I sat down on the floor and put my head in my hands. I started crying, and I was so angry with myself.

"Fuck you, Craig. Fuck you," I could see the hurt in his eyes, "you just broke my heart. I have been working so hard...trying to give you space when you need it, letting you wait to tell me whatever's on your mind instead of me pushing you. And for what? For you to try and kill yourself? And in front of Kennedy!"

"I'm...I'm sorry..."

"If you were sorry, you wouldn't have even thought about it."

He sat down next to me on the floor, and pulled me into his lap. We cried in each other's arms, him rocking us back and forth. Kennedy sat down in my lap and stretched her tiny arms around both of us, resting her head under my chin and on Boone's chest, and we just sat there.

"I want to get better," Boone said.

"Then you wouldn't have stood out in a ledge!" I yelled.

"Miss Harley, I think Mr. Boone wants to get better because it was scary being up there. He was scared of doing to you what his wife's memory does to him. He loves you."

"Yeah, that's what I wanted to say. Just couldn't word it like that," Boone said.

"Kennedy, could you give us a minute alone? Maybe go see what Grandma is doing?" I asked.

She nodded eagerly, and when I heard the elevator stop and not move again, I kissed Boone hard.

"You're so stupid," I said, gasping for breath, "I can't believe you would do that."

"You're what kept me from it," he said against my lips.

We held each other, kissing with passion that could've burned the casino down. Every inch of me was buzzing with excitement and pleasure. I so badly wanted to hold him forever.

We made love on the cocktail lounge floor, the rain beating down on the windows and roof around us.

The thunder was still rolling outside as we made our way to Nellis Air Force Base. Veronica and Cass tagged along and Boone decided to stay behind to get to know Kennedy. We had a long talk about her - he said there was just something about her that made him really like her. Maybe it was the fact that she looked like me, or just the fact that she was such a sweet girl. I told him how she said she wanted him to get better so he could be like my dad, and his eyes got red as he tried furiously blinking the tears away. He did admit he didn't feel comfortable taking care of a kid when he couldn't take care of himself, but like he said earlier, he couldn't help but like her. Cass and Veronica were excitedly planning my "wedding" behind me. I rolled my eyes and huffed at them.

"Whoa, there. Do you know where you're heading little lady?" A black man in a sweater vest and ball cap asked.  
"Boomer territory, right?"

"You're just willingly walking in there? You know they blow up anything that moves, right?"

"I know. But, the way the trajectory of the missiles is, they won't be able to reach me if I stay up against the rocks and move quickly, I should be able to get past them. Not to mention, it's raining and it will be a lot harder to see anything." Made me sound smart, but Boone is the one who told me all of that.

"Oh. Well, uh...you seem to know what you're talking about, little lady."

I nodded.

"Okay, well I can't stop you then. Godspeed."

"Veronica, Cass. Can you stay behind until I give you the okay?"

They nodded. I only get one chance to do this. Only one chance to get close enough that they will stop shooting. I was nervous, I couldn't hide that fact. My skin was covered in goosebumps and I was shaking. My hair was matted down from the rain and stuck in my eyes. There was a cliff directly to the left, so I booked it over there and a missile landed, blowing apart the skeleton of an old house. I kept running, and I felt the fire of an explosion behind me. Rubble and debris sprayed all over me, and I kept willing my legs forward. The fence was within view, and once I get about halfway there, they wouldn't be able to fire at me anymore. There was another missile shot through the air, and an old car blew to piece. I had to dodge the flying metal and car parts. There was a barrage of missiles as I got closer – shit was just flying at me. Rocks as big as my head, pieces of metal, something that looked like power armor, but I was not getting close enough to check it out. My boots were caked in mud and my arms and face were bleeding from being pummeled with debris.

"How in the holy fuck...?" A man wearing a Pre-War army-looking jacket adorned with pins and medals with a pair of holey jeans asked when I was outside the gate.

"Timing. Anyways, can I come in? I need to talk to your leader."

"Well, Raquel is coming. She'll take you to Mother Pearl."

Mother Pearl? _Jesus Christ, I bet they are a bunch of weirdos here_. I stood there for a good couple of minutes and no one was showing up.

"Where's Raquel? I'm drenched!"

"She's coming."

"Okay, well I have friends down the road, can I go get them?" I asked.

"I, uhm. I can't answer that. You'll have to talk to Mother Pearl."

I huffed and stood there for a few minutes more until a girl in combat armor unlocked the gate.

"I'm Raquel, the master-at-arms here. Mother Pearl will want to speak to you."

"I got that much. I'm soaked," I whined.

Nellis Air Force Base was...well, an old-world air force base. There were old world airplanes broken down everywhere. Even kids walked around in the old bomber jackets with pins and medals on them. Pearl's room was an old barracks and as soon as she saw me, light filled her eyes.

"Child! You took your sweet time getting here. I've been waiting a good five years for a sav - outsider to come along."

_Was she about to call me a savage? _"Okay. Well I'm here now. How can I assist you?"

"Oh my! There's lots to do. We'll give you small things at first, so the people can get used to having an outsider around. Raquel has a bug problem, Doc Argyll has wounded he needs assistance with, and Jack and Loyal probably need help with repairs."

"Okay, I'll help out. But first, can I go get my friends? They're standing in the rain above the base."

"Oh my goodness, those poor things!" Okay, you can go get them. I will allow you to come and go freely, along with anyone with you. My youngers think our guns can keep the world out, but I think we need to do the opposite and let it in just a little, or become it's victim. Hopefully you can show my youngers not all sav...outsiders should be blown up."

_She was definitely going to say savage. I wasn't going to say anything though – as much as it hurt my pride – I need Pearl's big toys on my side at Hoover Dam. _I nodded and went back up to get Cass and Veronica. The black man was still standing there and made it a point to say how surprised he was that I made it there and back. Veronica was talking my ear off on the way back, telling me about her ex girlfriend, Christina, and how she left the Brotherhood because they frown on homosexual relationships because they can't reproduce. She said she hasn't seen her since. Cass was telling me that they already planned everything for our wedding and asked how I hooked Boone in. I sighed.

A little girl tugged on my leg, and she looked up at me with big, sad eyes, "I lost Mr. Cuddles! He's probably dirty now!"

"What's Mr. Cuddles look like?" I asked.

"He's a brown teddy bear with red feet."

"I'll let you know if I find him."

"Thanks, lady!" The little girl exclaimed and walked away.

"So here's the low-down; we gotta help the Boomers out. Get them to fuckin' _love _us. When the time comes, I want their missiles and shit pointed at my enemies at the Dam," I said. Veronica and Cass nodded.

We were once again in Mother Pearl's barracks – I just wanted everyone to meet and greet. It was pretty early in the day, so we were going to do some stuff today, and we'd be back tomorrow. I figured that sick people were probably the priority – so I went over to Doc Argyll's lab to see what I could do. Cass went off to find that little girl's bear, and Veronica hung around because gross things are pretty cool.

Inside the little shack, the smell of dust and _sick_ filled my nose. I crinkled it up and shook my head. Just the smell of sick people – vomit, puss-filled wounds, the like, was making me sick, too.

"Hi. I'm a courier, just helping out around here –"

"Yeah, I heard Mother Pearl is letting you just wander around, but I've actually go work to do."

"She told me you needed some help. I've got a pretty decent medicinal skill, so I can help out the best I can."

"Well, I guess. I'm stumped, so maybe you can figure something out?"

"I'll look," I said, sitting next to one patient whose face and neck were very swollen and it looked like he was having trouble breathing. I took my first two fingers and carefully checked his heartbeat – it was slower than should be. He had a large purple lump on the back of his neck, and after some feeling around, I pulled a large ant stinger out. It seemed like almost immediately, his face and neck started deflating. I poked and prodded more at the wound to get whatever other poison was in there and then took a bottle of anti-venom I found in a cabinet and shoved it down the Boomer's throat, and gave him a shot of steroids. I sighed with relief and cleaned the wound a little better.

"Holy shit…" The doctor whispered behind me. He didn't even take out the stinger? What the fuck kind of medicine does he know?

The next patient had a completely disgusting infection on her side. It was spitting out puss and blood, and made the entire area stink. Even Veronica had to walk away. I took a towel and wiped all that shit away (while gagging, mind you,) before pouring disinfectant all over it. The towel was covered by the second time I had to wipe it up. I still had a couple of broc flowers in my pack, so I put a mouthful in and chewed them into a paste. More disinfectant on the wound– and before it could fill up again, I shoved the broc flower paste in the wound. I gave Doc Argyll what I had left and told him to change it soon, as I wrapped her torso in a clean bandage and stuffed some pills down her throat that help with swelling and infection.

"Oh my god, I thought the infection was too bad to turn back now," He mumbled.

The third and last patient's leg looked like it needed to be amputated. It was stitched up, but the skin was puffy and purple, practically swallowing the stitches. I cut them off and cleaned the wound exactly how I cleaned the other, giving him the same medicine, and after I left the paste in the leg wound for a while, I took it out and the puss had died down considerably. I recleaned it, restitched it, and redressed it, telling the doc he might have to do it again tomorrow. The leg would more than likely be reusable.

Veronica cheered behind me, her face hanging out of a window, "I'm so glad you did it! Seriously, that puss was rank. But I'm glad you saved their lives! And here comes Cass!"

Doc Argyll clapped a hand to my shoulder, "Holy shit! You savages _do_ know what the fuck you're doing!"

My eye twitched, "it was nothing, doc." I checked my Pip-Boy and _holy shit_ I had spent at least four hours in here.

"I'm gonna tell Mother Pearl how fucking awesome you are! Thanks again!"

"Okay. No problem, doc."

"So I found that fuckin' kid's Mr. Cuddles," Cass said Mr. Cuddles in a funny voice, like she was mocking it.

"Oh yeah?" Veronica and I both asked.

"Yeah. I gave it back, and she was super happy that I did, but it was rained on. So that's my fuckin' fault, right? So she starts screaming and freaking out and I'm trying to calm her down, and she's just like going of her fuckin' rocker, man!"

"Well, she got her bear back, so she can't bitch, I guess," I said.

"Oh yeah," Veronica popped in between Cass and I, "But if Kennedy lost her bear and it was all nasty and rained on, wouldn't you be upset?"

"No. I'd just wash it," I said simply, and my mind flashed over to Boone and Kennedy trying to get along. A sigh of defeat escaped. I didn't want to be here with these people I didn't know. Boone and Kennedy were back at the 38, and I'm at an old-world air force base trying to win over people I didn't fucking know. It was seven at night, so we stopped over to the museum to hear the Boomer's story before we left for the night. I am not staying here until I win them over – it could take a week or more. I'll walk the couple of miles every day.

It looked like an old school house on the inside with little chairs that were attached to desks and lots of books on bookshelves. I took a book out and smiled, _Frog and Toad_, one of my favorites. _I wonder if Kennedy would like it…_

"I'm Pete!" A little boy introduced himself, "And this is the Boomer museum! Have a seat, and I'll walk you through the mural."

The mural was bright and beautifully done. It took him about an hour, and when he was done, he clapped his hands together and held them in front of his chest, "What do you think?" he asked.

"That was an awesome story! Thanks for telling us!" I said, standing up. The _Frog and Toad_ book was still on my desk, "Oh, Pete…can I ask you something?"

"Yeah!"

"These _Frog and Toad_ books…can I borrow them?"

"Oh man! Take all of those books and keep them. No one reads for fun around here anymore."

I was like a kid in a candy store, shoving books like _Frog and Toad _(all four of them,) _A Light in the Attic, Where the Sidewalk Ends, Rainbow Fish, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, If You Give a Moose a Muffin,_ and other books I've never even heard of into my duffle bag, before saying goodbye to Mother Pearl and making it a point to let her know we'd be back tomorrow.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty Six: I'm Not the Answer

As I entered our bedroom, Boone was sitting at the card table with Kennedy. She was coloring, and in one hand, Boone held a cigarette at arm's length away from the little girl. In the other hand, he had two pieces of paper and a picture.

"Whatcha got there?" I asked.

"Look Miss Harley! Mr. Boone had a picture of Carla and he let me draw her!" She held a picture of a stick figure up to me. She had a big smile and curly hair. Over her stick figure stomach area was a giant circle - I guess it was supposed to look like she was pregnant.

"That's very pretty. How did you like hanging out with Mr. Boone?" I asked.

"It was awesome! He told me all about Carla and their baby. He said he wanted a girl, and he wanted to name it Carla too, but she didn't like that idea. He said he wanted to teach her how to shoot and dance and do all sorts of things!"

It seemed like opening up to Kennedy was easier than opening up to me. At least he was getting it out instead of keeping it in. He probably just thought that since she was a kid, she wouldn't be interested and it would be easier to tell her. When I was a kid, I didn't care about anything or listen to anyone. I was a dick. Good thing Kennedy isn't.

I looked at Boone and his face wasn't stuck in a permanent grimace. In fact, he smiled at the picture of him in brown NCR trooper gear next to a woman about my height with a head of wild brown curls, and perfectly white teeth in front of The Strip. She had a small baby bump that you really had to focus on to see. The smiles on their faces were so wide, they are almost goofy-looking.

"Mr. Boone also told me this old story his parents used to tell him all the time about three little pigs and a mean wolf!"

"Sounds like you guys had a lot of fun," I said, hugging Boone after he stubbed out his cigarette. They both nodded, and I told Kennedy it was past her bedtime. She hugged Boone and I before going downstairs. I sat on the edge of the bed, "Carla was beautiful," I said quietly.

He nodded, "you are too, though. I don't want you to think you have to be her. I miss her, but Kennedy...well, I'm not sure. She's way too smart for her own good. I told her all about Carla because the picture fell out of my pocket. She was quiet the whole time I talked, she drew me pictures, asked me questions. She even sympathized with me."  
"I know, she's such an awesome girl."

Boone set his papers, beret and sunglasses down on the table and walked over to me. He genuinely looked like he felt better - his forehead didn't have creases in it from his eyebrows always being furrowed, his eyes no longer had large bags under them and he was smiling - and that made my entire day so much better. And I had saved three people today.

"So how was the Boomers? I see you made it there," he bent down and put his knee on the bed between my legs. I leaned up to kiss him.

"It was good. We're gonna go back for a couple of hours a day. Today I saved three people."  
"Maybe we should celebrate?" He kissed down my neck and unclipped my leather vest, "I was thinking. Why wait until after the dam to try to have kids? Why not just do it now? Kennedy will only keep getting older, and so will we."

_Oh. Uh…what?_ I let out a moan as he nibbled my ear, "I don't know what will happen at the dam. That's why I wanted to wait."

"We'll win. We have so far," he laid me back and pinned me down with his body weight as he slid my clothes off.

"You two fuck like rabbits. I'm not sure what a rabbit it, but it's an old-world saying," Cass knocked back a shot of whiskey.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," I said simply.

"Oh come on. Seriously, you think we're deaf? I couldn't get away from the numerous 'Oh, God, Craig!'s if I tried. Jesus Christ. At least he sounds like he fucks good. I've fucked a few soldiers, and I'll be damned if they didn't know their dicks from their assholes."

"Well, Craig wasn't just any normal trooper. He was a First Recon. Maybe that's your problem. Quit fucking low-ranking troopers."

"Where do I find me one of these First Recons?" She asked, pouring me a shot of whiskey.

"Well, mine was in a Dinosaur mouth." When Cass raised an eyebrow, I said, "No shit. Dinky the Dinosaur."

She nodded, the bottle of whiskey met with her lips, "That's some shit. And he asked you to find out about his dead wife?"

"Yeah. He said he could only trust a stranger."

Veronica leaned over Cass, "Yeah, well I pounded it in his head that he needs to take care of you. I mean, the Army Man in him takes good care of everyone. He's like a mom or something. But he's troubled. He has good days and bad days, just like all of us. His bad days are just…worse than ours. That doesn't mean he should take it out on you."

I nodded. She's got a point. I don't expect one talk to wipe his conscience. He's still like 'I've got bad things coming.' He won't listen to me when I say he doesn't. He keeps saying he doesn't want to get too close, and then he rips my clothes off and is like 'let's fuck.' I think sex was just like a release for his anger. It was stressful, but I did want him to get better.

I needed to get to bed. I was tired, Craig and Kennedy were coloring and even though it was past her bedtime, he said she could stay up longer. It was so cute watching them play that I seriously wanted to cry. She got him to play tag and hide and seek and he just seemed happier. Veronica and Cass sat beside me, idly chatting. I looked around and it seemed oddly empty – all of the other women were gone. Boone said they were at the Gomorrah, cleaning up, so we walked over. Bodies were piled in the courtyard, and all of the blood spatters and smears were gone. They were rearranging tables when we walked in. It seemed to be shaping up nicely, and Mom said she wanted to work through the night, so she may not be back until later.

The bed was more than big enough for Boone, Kennedy and I, especially since Boone spent more time at the window than he did in bed. I kept dreaming in snip-its, waking up before a dream would end, always finding him at the window. One dream, I was being swallowed by a horde of NCR soldiers. I'm not sure why. In another, Benny let Caesar into The Strip and he succeeded in killing everyone and taking over. Kennedy grew up and fought for Caesar in another. Carla was selling me to the Legion in one. Every time I woke up, Kennedy was more than soundly sleeping beside me, and Boone assured me everything was okay. But at five in the morning, I couldn't sleep anymore, so I headed into the bathroom to take a bath. Boone sat, perched on the toilet seat, watching my every move. It was a little unnerving, to be truthful.

"I uhm. I…" He rubbed his hand across the fuzz that was growing on his head, and I instinctively rubbed mine, too. I was going to have to shave my whole head or cut the other side really short or something because it would look ridiculous soon. For a minute or two, he stuttered, looking for the words.

"If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. I know it's hard."

"No, I just can't form the words. I'm not a talker like you and Kennedy. It's not as easy for me."

"That's just how some people are," I shrugged.

"Carla was leaving me. She...after I came back from Bitter Springs, I was in a bout of depression. Couldn't bring myself to tell her about what happened. She thought I was keeping secrets from her. The night she packed up to leave was the night they took her."

Oh my god. So she died when they were fighting. He didn't get to say 'goodbye' or 'I'm sorry.' I rested my head on his knee, "I'm sorry," was all I could say.

"It's alright. Sometimes I wonder...if she were still alive, would we still be together? She was pregnant. I didn't want her to leave and take our kid with her. I would've followed her to the ends of the earth, if only for the baby. That doesn't change the fact that I loved her. I still wanted to be with her."

"It's okay. I understand. If you're ever feeling like you need to talk to someone, I don't care if I'm asleep or busy or whatever. I will stop whatever it is that I am doing. Do you understand?"

He nodded and began undressing, too. We cuddled in the bathtub until the water turned cold and gray from the soap and dirt on our bodies. His words were little more than hushed murmurs as he tangled his fingers through my hair. The words he was speaking seemed to dance further away from my ears as I started falling asleep. I vaguely remember him setting me on the edge of the bathtub to dry me off and making me put on a pair of underwear and a large T-shirt. It smelled like Boone, and I smiled and he carried me in his arms. Kennedy was already awake, and Boone asked her to go back to sleep and when she woke up again to let us finish sleeping. I caught my head as it bobbed downward off Boone's shoulder.

The rain had stopped half way to Nellis, even though the storm clouds were still angrily boiling above us. Veronica, Boone and Cass were all in tow, and as we approached the gate, we were let in like old friends. Today we were going to get rid of the ant problem. Raquel explained that they breathed fire, so we would have to attack them from a distance. A laser pistol came out from under Veronica's robes and Raquel shook her head.

"We tried to hit on with a laser pistol and they exploded," she nodded to herself.

My 9mm was placed in her hand, and Raquel said to talk to Loyal about a project he was working on. Of course, Loyal was older and very smug towards us being outsiders. I was about to tell him to forget it, when he produced what he called a sonic emitter. He said it was useless if he didn't know what frequency to set it on.

"Well, think if it as a field test-"

"Any signal above 22,000 hertz at 150 decibels should work," Veronica piped up. He handed over the sonic emitter, telling us to place it on an ant mound.

The entire area smelled like shit and fire, which was a terrible combination. There were a few dead Boomers lying around here and there. I can't believe they didn't have the decency to bury their fucking dead. Boone was completely on top of things, shooting ants before we even saw them coming. Well, it was hard to see anything when he insisted we all stay behind him. Veronica was having trouble hitting anything with my 9mm, I'm not sure why because it's more accurate than a laser pistol. Cass was getting pissed about being "boxed in," and the sniper in front of us stayed quiet as he took out several more ants. Veronica began flipping switches as we passed, because I had no idea what I was supposed to touch and leave alone, and Cass was now voicing very loudly how she was getting angry about all the protecting going on. She said she was a grown capable woman and didn't need to be sheltered like a child. Boone turned his head to speak, and I heard the pitter-patter of an ant coming from somewhere. My Pip-boy said it was close, and just as I looked away, I saw a stream of orange and red fire burst from the ant's mouth and catch Boone in the side and the arm. He flinched back, his teeth bared as he sunk a hunting knife into its head.

His shirt was little more than burnt bits, and I carefully peeled the rest of the shirt away from his body. It was black in some areas and blisters quickly formed in the red splotches. I administered a stimpack as Veronica found the ant mound. A nasty, disgusting crackling noise went off, and my stomach rolled over, causing any lunch I had in me to be violently forced out and on the floor beside us.

I gave Boone a stimpack and the T-shirt I wore under my vest - it was comically small on him, only covering his chest and part of his stomach. I poked at his belly button in play and he hastily gave the shirt back. Everyone was quiet as we went and told Raquel her ant problem was solved. A look of confusion spread across her face and finally set in a look of triumph. She suggested Boone getting a shirt from a locker in the mess hall. Just plain black, and the color suited him just fine. His burns stood out red and angry against his soft skin. He winced as he struggled to get his arm through the hole.

Jack told us about a girl he had seen through his binoculars. The sign where she was at read "Crimson Caravan: New Vegas Branch." He mentioned wanting to meet her. When I asked about the repairs he needed help with, he said he needed scrap metal. Well, shit. Scrap metal is everywhere.

"Mother Pearl, can I ask you a question?" We were standing in her barracks as she was cooking on the stove.  
"Of course, child."

"Well, Jack has a...love interest. He's seen her through his binoculars and I thought it would be a cool idea to bring her here."

"I'm not so sure. We don't know anything about her."

"But it would mean a lot to him,' I said.

She stood rigid for a few seconds before sighing, "I'll give her an outfit and tell them not to fire at her. If she does anything I do not agree with, it's on Jack."

I nodded, "of course. I'm sure he'll be excited to meet her."

Throughout the day, Veronica helped someone fix a stove and a missile launcher, Cass and I played with children, and Boone stood back and watched idly. It was like he was trying to capture every piece of life going on around him. So he could tuck it away and bring it back up in a time of need. Pete approached me with more children's books, and I realized I had completely forgotten to give Kennedy her books. I thanked Pete and asked if he needed help with anything. He said he wanted to learn how to shoot a gun - not a rocket launcher, but just a gun.  
"Boone's the man for that," I said, pointing at Boone who was leaning against a building in the sticky shade. His eyebrows furrowed, but Pete was more than excited when Boone produced a 10mm and handed it to him. Across from them, there were several bottles lined up on a fence. Boone got down on one knee to be level with Pete. His arms were locked forward, and Boone told him to relax them, pushing his shoulders down and pulling his arms closer. I could see Boone looking down the barrel, putting his sunglasses on top of his head, and looking down the barrel again. Pete took a shot and missed by far.

"Close your one eye and focus the other down the middle of the gun. Take a deep breath...pull the trigger," were Boone's words of wisdom. Pete pulled the trigger and clipped the bottle enough to make it fall over. They practiced for about an hour, and Pete had knocked over all the rest of the bottles in a shatter of glass.

Mother Pearl found us walking around and excitedly came up to us, "you have done well to earn the trust of my people, child. I want you to talk to Loyal about our fondest dream."

Turns out, this dream is raising an old bomber from Lake Mead. Veronica helped fix the rebreather mask Jack had given me, and they clapped me on the shoulder and wished me good luck.

My duffle bag was stuffed with two ballasts, a detonator, books, and the mask. As soon as we left the Boomers I started freaking out, "I can't go underwater. No. I'll...I'll suffocate! I'll drown! What if the rebreather doesn't work? What if there's some creepy man fish thing and it takes me to it's hidden underwater lair and forces me to bear his man fish children?"

"That sounds terrifying," I could hear Boone choke back a laugh, "but highly unlikely."

"Or I could get caught in seaweed and starve to death if the rebreather works and I don't end up drowning first. Looks like we can't get the Boomers on our side. Sorry, guys."

"I'll go," Veronica huffed, "you guys probably don't even know what a ballast is anyway."

My tension melted away, "thank the fucking lord," I let out the breath I was holding in, "first thing tomorrow."

I planted face first on the bed, my duffle bag slamming uncomfortably against my back. Kennedy buzzed around the room like a happy little bee, and when I handed her all the books I've gotten for her, she was literally in tears.  
"No one has ever gone out of their way to be nice to me. You and Mr. Boone are the best and I really like both of you. I...I'm not worthy of everything you've given me. I'm not even your child, and you take care of me like I am. And I have nothing to offer in return."

"Honey, you're just a kid. Just because those Legionnaires said that shit to you, doesn't mean it's true. I don't expect anything in return, except that you learn to read and write so you can read me bed time stories," she smiled as I ruffled her hair.

I'll admit – I wasn't ready to be thrust into being a mom. I liked Kennedy, hell, I _loved _that little girl. But having Boone's moodswings to take care of, and all this shit at the dam – not to mention I was constantly looking over my shoulder, making sure the Legion weren't there to snatch us up. Point is, the Legion doesn't have her anymore.

I walked sleepily back to Nellis with Veronica. She had successfully deployed the ballasts and the Lady in the Lake was now floating peacefully on the surface. Cass and Boone stayed back to make sure no one tried to steal it or scavenge it for parts. Time spent with Veronica was small, so I got in some girl time. I asked her what was up with her and Cass. "We're not serious, but the sex is seriously good," was her reply. I nodded, good enough, I suppose. She was like a kid, asking all sorts of questions; "How's Kennedy?" "How's Boone?" "Do you think you guys are going to settle down and have kids?"

"Oh child, thank you! Of course you have the Boomers' support at the dam. You've more than proven outsiders can be trusted."

We escorted a few Boomers to the Lady and parted from there. Cass was ecstatic that we had the Boomers on our side. The sniper in front of me stayed quiet, however. No emotion showed on his face as we entered the 38. Even as Kennedy and mom ran up to us, he stayed stony.

"Nothing will change me," He said, his back to me in our room, "You can't save me from myself. I think it's best I just go back to Novac…"

* * *

_I'm not sure if anyone noticed, but I like to reference song lyrics. A lot. I usually listen to the local rock radio station, and a lot of the lyrics in some songs really seem to describe Boone, or Boone and Harley. I've used Rise Against, Mumford and Sons, 3 Doors Down, Johnny Cash, Muse, In This Moment, Straight Line Stitch...yeah. Bonus points to anyone who recognizes the lyrics, haha._


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty Seven: Maybe I Should Cry For Help

Nothing changed his mind. No crying. No screaming. No kicking, pleading. He just walked away without any explanation. Just left. Even Cass said he was fine, talking and smiling – something he rarely does – and all of the sudden, he just shut up. Put on his normal grimace, mid-sentence. I couldn't just let him walk away. I met up with him in Freeside, jogging to keep a steady pace, little Kennedy panting behind me. He just kept walking. Acted like we weren't even there. Even when I walked in front of him, he just walked around. He didn't _even look at me_. I left the 38 with nothing but the pair of jeans I slid on, and a tank top. I was exposed – no weapons except the knife in my boot to protect us. No armor to cover my body.

Kennedy's small hand was gripping my fingers tightly as we walked a few feet behind the angry, depressed, self-loathing red beret that marched diligently in front of us – rifle always at the ready. My head was spinning – I'm not sure what happened. Had no fucking clue. I checked my Pip-boy, and I noticed we were not even kind of heading in the same direction as Novac. In fact, he was making a beeline right for the Cove, and I had every fucking right to be suspicious of it. He's told me several times that he wanted to die after taking out as many Legion as possible.

"Craig, you're not going to the Cove, are you?" I knew he wouldn't answer, but I didn't need him to. Kennedy stared up at me, and I got level with her, digging a knee in the hot sand, "Listen to me," I took her little face in my hands, "I want you to go back to the 38. Take the key with you. Don't let anyone in or out. Tell them we'll be back soon, okay?"

Tears filled her blue eyes, but she nodded regardless. _Fuck, I am way too attached to this little girl, _the thought of possibly leaving her forever hurt as bad as Boone going on his suicide mission. I planted a kiss on her forehead and watched as her little legs carried her towards The Strip gate. We were leaving Freeside, so I knew she would be okay. From Mick and Ralph, to the securitrons, and the other WolfPaws that were milling around, buying things for their new casino, no one would bother to touch her. I turned to see that he had already exited the Freeside gate. In all honesty, I didn't expect him to stick around and wait for me.

"Craig! Why are you doing this?" I stepped in front of him again, only for him to step around me.

Now he was just pissing me off. My hands were fists at my sides, my body shook and I was grinding my teeth. The only way to get his attention was to do some sort of physical something or other to him, and the way he acted when he was burned in Nellis, he didn't feel much pain. His sharp ears perked up as I ran towards him, and he was mid-turn when I tackled him to the ground. He lost his balance pretty easily and his rifle dropped out of his hands, firing. It scraped my forehead, and the blood dripped down my face as I pinned him down. _Little too close to my fucking face and head for comfort._ He was pissed – veins popped out of his forehead, neck, and arms as he struggled me to the ground. I was putting up the best fight I ever had. My back was on the ground, my legs uncomfortably folded under him and he struggled for control. After working my feet free, I pressed them against his chest and kicked him off me. He fell back and I quickly pounced on top of him. I laid there underneath me, baring his teeth.

"What the _fuck_ is your problem?" My voice echoed around us as I yelled louder than I thought I did.

He shook his head, pushing me with his full strength. I flew off of him, skidding across the dirt and sand to land on my back, stopping myself with my now-torn up elbows. There was nothing I could say or do to stop him as he just kept walking through the day and into the night. He hadn't spoken a single word to me all day, and now we stood above the ridge leading down to the Cove that was still littered with the bodies of dead Legionnaires. Training drums boomed through the black night sky and smoke filled our nostrils from the numerous torches placed around. Finally, Boone turned towards me. The words either couldn't or wouldn't form on his tongue, and he stared down at me for an uncomfortable amount of time.

"I don't have any weapons," My voice was little more than a croaked whisper.

He sighed loudly, "Go back to Vegas. I don't need anyone else dying for me," He pushed a 10mm gun into my hand and I dropped it.

"No. I will _not _leave you out here. Either you come back with me, or I'll start shooting, too."

His large hands cupped my shoulders and he shook me violently, "This is something I need to do alone. Just get out of here, okay?" He was yelling, whether he realized it or not, and the shaking was making my head pound and my vision swim.

From down on the ridge, I heard shouts in Latin. Form where I was standing, it sounded like they were saying "intruders" and "attack." Boone immediately hit the ground, his rifle steadied, and he began firing. I grabbed the 10mm off the ground, and fired as well. Before the main group reached the top of the ridge, where we were, we had killed maybe a little more than 10 of them, and we were badly outnumbered. I kept firing, as did Boone who was hidden in between two rocks. There were too many of them, and I couldn't hold them off anymore as I needed to reload again and didn't have any rounds left. Two sets of large hands grabbed me by my arms and dragged me towards the Cove. I noticed Boone was no longer firing, whether he was running or got caught, I couldn't tell. I could only imagine what was going through his head at the moment. First his wife, and now they have us outnumbered at least twenty to one, dragging me towards the Cursor. Except we didn't make it towards him, as they threw us both in the dirt and locked a cage around us.

"I see we have the courier who has caused Caesar so much trouble," A man who called himself Gabban stood above me, his dark blue eyes piercing. He took a machete and held me down as he began skinning the tattoo off of my arm. It was the worst pain I had ever felt, tears unwillingly filled my eyes and I held my breath in. He also took the dog tags that Boone had given me and threw them down by the river.

Our hands were tied behind our backs and we were made to sit in opposite corners of our large outdoor prison. There were other slaves, fitted with collars and slave rags who refused to look at us. The man named Gabban said he had taken Vulpes' place as the leader of the Frumentarii. His voice was much like Vulpes' – cold and calculating. Honestly, it scared me. He sounded so calm as he gave out orders to undress us and fit us with slave rags. Boone was forced to watch, with his own rifle held to his head as the men did to me what the NCR had done years ago. I knew fighting would do nothing, especially as my hands were tied behind my back and I was laying on them uncomfortably. My fingers were numb; my wrists were bleeding from the ropes, and the coarse, hot sand was digging into my arm wound. I was thrown around like a rag doll, from one man to the next. It was more than painful, more than rough and unforgiving. There was blood smeared down my legs from the unlubricated, raw assault that happened until the sun came up. I couldn't even count the amount of naked men I had seen. The tears that quietly fell down Boone's face made my own appear after hours of holding them back as someone threw my underwear back at me before walking away, knowing I couldn't put them on. The pain was brutal and everything hurt. I had to rest myself on my hip, my head leaning on the bars. Dirt and sand had caked into where my tribe mark once was, and it stung unforgivingly.

Day turned into night, and none of us had been given water or food at all, until a large Brahmin steak was thrown through the cage. The other five slaves in the pen shuffled towards it as quickly as they could, their hands tied back, as well. They eagerly grabbed at the sandy, dirty steak with their teeth, lashing out at each other and biting at anyone who got in their way. The Legionnaires outside of the pen cheered them on, like some sort of sick game they were watching. I chanced a glance at Boone, whose beret was taken when his clothing was ripped off. He had light fuzz growing on the top of his head, despite the fact that his chin stubble was dark. He looked defeated – this wasn't what he wanted. He didn't kill nearly as many as he had hoped to, and he certainly didn't want to be captured and made into a slave. The only other guy in the cage was a younger boy who sat huddled with who I guessed was his mother and sister or girlfriend. The older woman was definitely his mother by the way she sang to them and cuddled with them, watching over instead of sleeping. They sat in between me and another woman, who was so skinny and close to death that she already smelled like it – but it was probably the fact that she wasn't allowed to shower.

At night, the patrolling Legionnaires would come into the pen and repeatedly take turns raping myself and the other raggedy, dirty women – leaving the one near death alone. It happened for over a week, I think. I lost count of how many times the sun went up and came back down. The slave rags they had fitted us with were hanging loosely on my body now – and I was already skinny as it was. The rope was getting loose on my now-thinning wrists, so they tied my wrists up to a bar above my head, making my entire arms numb from the lack of circulation, and the wound on my arm pulsate nastily. By this time, it was getting infected; I could smell and feel it and no one even thought about cleaning it. My eyes kept rolling in the back of my head, and my head lolled on my shoulders. Boone was personally given food and water to keep his strength up. They would guard him from the rest of us as he ate. I think they were hoping he would fight for them. Why else would they give him so much special attention?

My thoughts kept drifting to my Pip-boy that was no longer attached to my arm. I still had that message on it that I could send Yes Man, so the securitrons could storm the Fort. For all I knew, it could've been floating down the river by now, or someone else could've gotten into it and deleted it. Supposedly it was heavily encrypted, and I doubt the army of a man who hated technology so much knew how to do anything with a Pip-boy. A guard came in and rounded all of us up – we would be meeting with Caesar today. Presumably for us women to be auctioned off and the men made to train for Caesar's army. Two separate boats were set up, I was in one, and Boone was in the other. I sat on the floor of our near-empty boat and rested my head against the side, staring into the water and every once in a while, bile would rise up and force its way out through my nose and mouth.

Caesar was more than ecstatic that not only I had been caught, the courier that opposed his army and killed so many of them, but also that Boone was caught – being a former NCR member, they knew he knew his way around everything NCR and they wanted him to rejoin and be a spy for the Legion. Not to mention, they knew Boone had a personal vendetta against the Legion and would kill them on sight. We were in Caesar's goofy tent, all of us kneeling in front of him. When his speech was over, the other slaves were allowed to leave, but he kept Boone and myself kneeling in front of him. He scolded his men for not having the decency to put my underwear back on, and then ordered them to remove my rags anyways. I was repeatedly whipped, crack after crack, blood seeping down my back, the pain so intense, so raw that after being starved for a week, the ground swam up towards my face before the world turned black.

I jerked my head, noticing that I couldn't move it a full 360 degrees. I was on a bed, there was a rope around my neck, only letting my head tilt up off the pillow a few inches. Around my midsection was another rope, my arms held hostage underneath it, and my legs were also tied down to the bed, but at least they weren't tied open to the bedposts. I'm not sure how much more of _that_ I could take. My back was pounding, screaming in agony as I laid on it, strapped tightly to the bed. The burlap sack I was given for "clothes" rubbed uncomfortable on the lash marks and ripped open scabs. The tent was dark; I couldn't even see a foot in front of me. There was some whispering in the corner, and a bottle of dirty water was brought to my lips – they were so dry it took me a second to get my mouth open before taking the water down in large gulps – it was delicious, even if it was dirty and disgusting, it was the most water I've had in over a week. I noticed when I swallowed that I had something tight fitted around my neck. The small red light blinked furiously at me, and after all of the water was drained from the bottle, I put my head back down. The Legionnaire put his finger to his lips and sulked back into the dark. I cleared my throat a few times, but after not talking for a week, it was hoarse and barely above a whisper. I tried to ask about Boone, but no one would answer, if they could even hear me.

Hours passed, and if the sun came up or went down, I was unable to tell. The tent or building or where ever I was being kept was still suffocatingly dark and I couldn't get anyone to answer me, no matter how much I talked. I wasn't crazy, I knew there was someone there. _Maybe I am crazy. How long have I been without food and clean water? I'm probably hallucinating._

But I wasn't, because someone had come up beside me and cut the ropes holding me down. Hands were under my arms, lifting me up and the sudden change from being horizontal to being vertical caused me to throw up the water I had just been given. If that was bad, the horribly bright outside world compared to the dark tent I was just in burned my eyes and flopped my stomach. A sharp pain seared through my head as my eyes struggled to get used to the change in light. Barely using my legs lately caused them to be weak, and coupled with the pain in my head, my knees buckled. The Legionnaires dragged me to Caesar's tent and threw me down in front of him. For some reason, I was panting hard.

"You were out for a couple days. For a second, I was afraid that my Legion had inadvertently killed you and I wouldn't get the satisfaction of doing it myself. Guards, let's cook our friend a nice dinner and get her some clean water. We're gonna put you in the arena and have you-" Caesar stopped mid-sentence, staring blankly at me as his hand flew up to his head. His eye twitched furiously and he breathed in and out evenly for a few minutes. A couple of guards rushed up to him and helped him stand up. He held a hand out to them for a second and they knelt down on the sandy floor of the tent.

"What the fuck?" I asked.

I knew about medicine from studying the old Pre-War books that were littered through my old house. They were medicinal, except for the girly magazines and for a while, they were hard to understand. The pictures made it interesting enough that I wanted to learn more, and every time I found a book, I would read it cover-to-cover until I memorized every detail, small and large. I was appointed as the tribe's "healer" which normally doesn't happen if you're related to the chief, but I had a more extensive knowledge of medicine than anyone else did. To me, it was either very severe migraines or a tumor.

He seemed angry that I swore in his presence, but I shrugged, "Did you notice you just cut off mid-sentence? Because that's not normal. Let's not mention you just completely forgot what you were talking about."

"So you _do_ know something about medicine?"

"Tribal medicine," I lied. It hurt to talk with the collar around my neck.

"Step into my tent. Maybe you can help out a bit, and we'll get that arm cleaned up."

I raised my eyebrow as I struggled to get up off the ground. My knees were still weak and I had a hard time balancing with both of my hands tied behind my back. His room was right behind his throne, and there was an Auto-Doc at the end of the bed that was in sleep mode. I've seen a couple of them, but not enough to know anything about them. He sat at his desk.

"There's something wrong with my head. It hurts. I have cut off mid-sentence more than once or twice. Sometimes I can't remember simple things," He said as a Praetorian guard stood next to him.

"It sounds like a tumor to me."

"That's what I was thinking, too. I need to get it out of here. All it's doing is affecting my ability to lead," He had the same slave who applied salve to my back last time, scrub the wound out and apply a stimpack and then a salve. I noticed the salve was less potent - she must've followed my advice - and then she wrapped a clean rag around it.

"Excuse me, but I'm unsure of why the fuck you're telling one of your mortal enemies all of this personal information."

His fist connected to my jaw, and I immediately felt it swell. At least it wasn't the fist with the strange power glove on it. My head probably would've caved in.

"Do not speak to me again like that. I'm going to send you with a party to find the piece to fix my Auto-Doc."

"Okay. But I want the guy I was with to come with me, and I need my Pip-boy back."

"You're demanding the Great Caesar?"

"With my Pip-boy, I'll know exactly where I'm going, and Boone is a great sniper and tracker. He'll be able to help us get in and out quicker."

Caesar closed his eyes and leaned back. The Praetorian guard whispered something into his ear, and Caesar nodded. I waited patiently – what else was I supposed to do?

"Find her Pip-boy and fit her with a pack. Get this Boone character from where ever we put him. Gather a raiding party. You'll set out tonight when the sun sets."

And with that, I stepped from Caesar's room as he laid down on the bed. My hands were cut loose and a large back pack was thrown on my shoulders. My knees buckled – the weight was far too great for not having eaten and given the minimal amount of water needed to keep my body going. The pack was taken off, and a couple of people went through it, lessening the weight as a Brahmin steak was thrown in front of my on the sand. Much like the other slaves had in the pens, I picked the steak up and shoved it in my mouth, not caring about the dirt and dust and sand. It could've been covered in shit and I would've eaten it, I was so hungry. I was given another bottle of water, still dirty, but water is water. I quickly drank it down and sat in the sand for a second, trying to get the steak and water to stay down. With the pack on, I was made to do nothing but walk back and forth from the Cursor's position at the front gate, through the gate to the Fort, and then back up to Caesar's tent with just rags wrapped around my feet and the burlap sack that hung from my chest to a little bit below my ass. I was sure that the back pack was causing it to rise up – not that it had far to go before my entire ass hung out. At least Caesar had the decency to tell them to give me my underwear back. _Ugh, look at me. Rationalizing Caesar's actions. My ass is hanging out in front of a bunch of slavers and rapists, and here I am like '_Caesar is so nice because he let me wear underwear_.' What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Outside the Fort's giant wall, but still stuck behind the wall that led to the river below us, I saw Boone. He was completely broken down, the shell of what he once was. His nose and mouth were dripping blood, and he had his beret back, but that wasn't what caught my attention. He was strung up on a cross. They _had crucified him_. He hung up on the giant cross in front of the Fort wall as an example. Anytime someone would come or go, they would see him. Even the best can be brought down. It was in that exact moment that I had lost all hope. I may have had an army right underneath us, but I would not be able to get to it. Not without the platinum chip or my Pip-boy. Yes Man had no idea we were here, and he wouldn't unless I sent him that message. Kennedy knew we were heading to the Cove, but did she tell anyone? My guess was no, since no one had come. I didn't want them back here at the Fort. Not to rescue me. Not to risk getting themselves caught.

Boone was cut down, and I was brought away from my daze when I was pushed to the ground, a machete held to my throat. He shouted a few words at me in Latin that I didn't understand, and I nodded fiercely before rushing to get back up. Hours and hours of walking up and down the hill with a pack on that weighed more than I did, and I felt like I was dying of exhaustion. I couldn't catch my breath, especially with the collar damn near choking me to death. I had just entered the Fort again to continue my path of aimlessly walking around, when I heard gunshots. I ignored them, as did most of the people around, and headed towards Caesar's tent. He fitted me with some shoddy armor and my Pip-boy. We weren't allowed to have weapons in fear of retaliation against the large fifty-man raiding party that was accompanying us. Boone was allowed to come simply because I told Caesar Boone knew exactly what we were looking for.

The gunshots got closer and louder – frantic screaming and war cries could be heard bellowing from the entrance of the Fort. I quickly sent the message to Yes Man while everyone was preoccupied with the ensuing fight going on right outside, and the ground rumbled ferociously. Caesar and his guards left the tent in a hurry, looking around at each other with their brows furrowed, sensing something was terribly wrong. I took a deep breath, quickly scanning the area for anything we could use as a weapon, finding slave ledgers and war plans (which I shoved into my back pocket,) everything except weapons. Pens, pencils, scalpels, empty stimpacks, _fuck, I just need a weapon!_

The rumbling got worse and worse until eventually it felt like what I imagined an earthquake was like, and Boone and I lost our balance, falling on the floor of the tent. I heard someone outside yell a "what the fuck?" and a very familiar voice that cheered, "the securitrons!" – Veronica.

* * *

_Writing rape scenes is always awkward. I write them how I imagine someone who was repeatedly raped would describe it, without using the word "rape." At first, I wasn't even going to include a vivid rape scene, but they _are _slavers and rapists, so it made more sense than not to me._


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty Eight: What If I Wanted to Break?

**Third Person**

Veronica, Cass, and most of the courier's tribe had showed up to help bust them out. They waited a few days after Kennedy had come rushing to the 38 with tears in her eyes, saying that they were heading to the Cove. They figured that since the Cove was already wiped out, Boone was just having a fit and wanted to go back. After they hadn't come back for three, four, five days, they were all worried sick and decided to head out. Caesar had realized that with all of the securitrons pouring out of the vault and all of the angry women fighting his group – ripping his Legionnaires' throats out with their teeth, clawing their eyes out and rearming themselves with _his_ weapons, that he was badly outnumbered. His Displacer Glove took down a number of securitrons, but as soon as one fell, two more appeared from the bunker. It was like a never-ending sea of them. He would not go down in his own Fort. He would live to take down the dam, even if that meant hiding like a coward and hoping no one would notice he was gone.

The scent of blood was strong on the battlefield. Tents were burning down, slaves were running and hiding, but the women stood strong against the Legion that had, at one point, broken them all down to a mere nothing but skin and bones begging for water, being told they were lucky they were alive. Caesar stood from his tent and watched as the courier's mother took out more people than anyone else. He watched her spin on her heel, machete in hand and take down four Legionnaires by slicing their throats. Just from spinning with her machete out. Dogs rushed out under the command of a man with a tall mohawk and goatee. The dogs were vicious and well trained, but before they could get near anyone, a securitron opened a hatch on its "shoulder" and a mini-missile had popped out, blowing the dogs to chunks of meat and blood that splattered the men and women on the battlefield. Antony, the dog trainer, barely missed the blast and pulled out a gun, aimed down the sights at the securitron. A cowboy face appeared on the screen, "This is from Miss Harley," it drawled as he pulled out an automatic shotgun and shot at the man until he was a pile of blood and bullet holes on the ground.

The numerous securitrons made a wall between the women and the Legionnaires as Harley and Boone appeared from the tent, seeing Caesar watching the battlefield. With nothing more than their fists to protect them, Boone jumped on top of the considerably smaller man and they wrestled in the dirt, Caesar trying to bring his fist to connect with Boone's head. Harley grabbed his arm and wrestled the Displacer Glove from him and strapped it on her own hand. She smiled wickedly, noticing Legion members advancing on them, only to be shot down by members of her tribe or the securitrons.

"How's it feel, Caesar, conqueror of 87 tribes? How does it feel to be at the mercy of a stray fucking dog?" She asked him, the small woman was towering over the man who had been a slaver, rapist, conqueror…now reduced to little more than a babbling human below her. She reared her foot back as hard as she could, and it connected with his head. There was a satisfying cracking noise and his body twitched. Harley didn't want him dead yet; she wasn't done with him, so they tied his arms behind his back and slumped him in the tent.

As they emerged, the scene was breathtaking. The brown sand now red with blood. Every tent on fire. The women were slashing throats and barking out war cries. Veronica was punching people's heads in. The Legionnaires were dwindling. They knew there were more Legion members milling around the Wasteland, but it was a nice chunk of them, and they were little more than bleeding, crying, pathetic men, begging for their lives. Boone found his rifle on a dead Legionnaire and hit the sandy ground with his stomach, the booming crack of his rifle rang in her ears as all of his marks quickly fell. Harley looked down on all the carnage, and a rush of adrenaline surged through her. She scooped up two machetes with a loud, guttural howl which many of the women returned to her. Armed with a machete in each hand, and the Displacer Glove, she rushed in, stabbing a man in the chest at the same time she slit another's throat.

Out of pure anger, the images of the last week and a half pounding through her head, she cut the legs off of one man who had repeatedly helped himself to her. Boone finished him off by putting a bullet in his skull. She had struck another rapist blind by slicing a machete across his eyes. An evil laugh escaped her as she watched him flail around helplessly. Veronica had disabled their slave collars earlier and the air flowed through her lungs better than they had in what felt like forever as she panted hard. A spear whizzed by her head, just barely missing her, and she shot a look that could melt steel in her attacker's direction. His eyes went wide, and he carelessly chucked spear after spear. They didn't even hit her by far, and he turned to run as she reached him, grabbing him by the ridiculous mask-hair piece combo that covered his head. He jerked back and she slit his throat, the blood splattering her face. She reared back and howled again before dropping his limp body to the ground. No one had returned her howl though. She heard that the fighting had stopped, so why was no one howling?

She turned and the scene in front of her made her knees buckle for the thousandth time that day. "No. No, no, no, no, no," she muttered to herself as she crawled on her hands and knees. The Legion around her were dead, but right now, that didn't matter. What did was the woman whose head lie in Boone's lap. Her mother. A spear that the Legionnaire had carelessly thrown embedded itself into her mother's neck at an awkward angle. If it was just an inch over, it would've been in her shoulder. Instead, it jutted out of her neck, the blood spurting out around it.

"Mom! Mom, listen to me!" She yelled as her mother closed her eyes and reached a hand up to touch her face. Tears brimmed in Harley's eyes and she shook violently, "I…Mom! Open your eyes! Stay with me, you asshole!"

Talia smiled up at her only child, the woman who had grown from being just a little girl who said she was going to rebuild one of the cars that blocked the entrance to the WolfPaws territory. Her daughter who, when she told her mom and dad about Meredith and her dating openly, had a pink color spread across both girls' cheeks when they accepted her as her own. The teenager that was more interested in reading the medical books around their house than the smutty magazines. The teenager who cried for weeks when Meredith was banned from the tribe. The teenager who asked to train with guns as well as melee weapons so she could protect her tribe. The little girl who was, and still is, afraid of water. The little girl who loved her mother and father with her entire heart. The teenager that set out and single-handedly killed the other tribesmen that had killed her father. On the back of Talia's eyelids, all of the images of her little girl quickly growing up to be a teenager and then blossoming into the young adult she was today. She smiled again. She was going to die, and that was okay with her. She was dying a warrior's death; she had enough glory that dying wasn't bad.

Harley pressed her mother's hand to her cheek that was hot and wet with tears. She was in shock, so as much as anyone thought it hurt to talk, it actually didn't, "Tell Kennedy…I love her," She smiled, "she's a good…little girl. And…Boone. Take care of…them. Please."

Harley held her mother in her arms, her head on her chest for a few more minutes until it stopped rising and falling. She threw her head back and called out a depressed howl, and the other women followed suit. Though tears burned her eyes and face, she was angrier than anything else. If she wouldn't have told Kennedy where they were going…if she hadn't needed saving…if she would've caught that spear…if she would've killed him before he had thrown anymore spears. _No. None of this is my fault, _she thought, _This is the work of the Mighty Caesar._

"Victor!" She called him over.

"Howdy little lady, It's good to see –" He stopped talking, and it looked like he bent down and his shoulders slumped, "Oh my goodness. I'm very sorry, Miss Harley," His voice was more somber than normal and he bowed his 'head.'

"Thank you, Victor. I'm gonna put my mom on top of you and I want you to carry her back to the 38, okay?"

"I sure can," Victor stretched his arms out towards the dead older women, blood leaking down her neck and staining her shirt. Harley quickly pulled the spear out, and threw it to the ground. Before she let Victor pick her up, she wrapped a piece of cloth around her neck wound and streaked blood across her forehead. She had the older woman in her arms, pulled her into her lap and cried into the crook of her neck. Softly, she sang an old lullaby that her mother used to sing to her. When she was done, the women circled around her, crying as well. Veronica, Cass, and Boone included. Victor lifted her up and gently set her on his head.

"Please take care of her," Harley whispered. Victor nodded and left.

The anger inside of Harley was exploding. It felt like her hair was going to catch on fire and her hands were falling asleep from being balled in fists. She stomped up to the tent where they threw Caesar, his hands still bound behind him. He was struggling to keep his head up on his shoulders, and the eye closest to where she kicked him in the side of the head was turning an awkward color. He was blind in one eye now.

"The Mighty Caesar," She said mockingly, "Mighty. Reduced to a half-blind, lonely man. Get up," She jerked him hard by the ropes on his wrists and half-dragged him to the arena, "You and I, we're gonna fight in the arena," She smiled wickedly. She had more than an advantage with him not being able to see and securitrons and the remaining WolfPaws surrounding them. In some weird, sick, twisted way, she had respect for Caesar. He was so committed to what he did, even if it was sickeningly disturbing. He was committed – something you don't see much out here. She would give him a warrior's death, just as her mother died.

She cut his ropes and threw the machete at his feet. Still armed with his Displacer Glove, she also armed herself with a machete, and they went at it. Caesar was fast and strong, but she was faster, dodging every move he tried to strike at her. His machete whizzed past her head, cutting a chunk of her hair. She whipped a punch at his leg, hearing it audibly snap. He swung at her again, but she blocked it with her machete. She landed another blow with the glove in his chest. He flew backwards and laid there, barely alive. In the back of her mind, she heard, "_when Caesar's day comes, I want to be the one to pull the trigger."_ Boone deserved this more than anyone else. She told him he could kill him, so as he lay on the ground, trying to gather the strength to stand, she extended her hand out in front of her, remembering an old gladiator movie holotape she had seen. She stuck her thumb out, pointed sideways, comically she made it point up for a half a second before giving him the thumbs down, and that was Boone's queue to take him out.

After their ears stopped ringing, the snipers loud, deep voice boomed in the darkness, "Thumbs down, you son of a bitch!"

There was not a single person alive at the Fort or the Cove, since the women needed to take them out to get to Harley and Boone. A few of the WolfPaws stayed behind to take care of Kennedy. At the thought of the little girl, Harley's hand flew to her wrist. She no longer had the lucky bracelet she had been given on the first day she met her adoptive daughter. The other women had left earlier than Boone and Harley. They looked around for their old clothes and weapons, and looted some things they thought would be useful, stuffing it in the back pack they made Harley carry up and down the hills of the Fort. After eating what they found in Caesar's tent and taking all the booze they could find, they set off.

The sun was rising as they landed at Cottonwood Cove. No Legion around them except the dead ones that lay on the ground and slumped against buildings. Harley was ecstatic to find Boone's dog tags were not in the river, but just shy of it, hidden in the rocks. Despite Boone's coming here to die, they both felt _alive_. He was _glad_ to be alive, something he hadn't felt since Carla was alive. Since before Bitter Springs. Right now, the only thing going through his mind was the woman beside him – stronger than he was. She was repeatedly raped for over a week, and not a single tear escaped for it. Even after she bled on the sand, she did not budge. She did not show any signs of giving up or backing down. The sniper was not stupid – he knew it broke her in more ways than one. He watched it on her face – was forced to watch it as they held his own rifle to his head. She told him before that she didn't fight it anymore, fighting only made it worse. So he watched as it tore a hole in his heart anytime someone desecrated her poor, beaten, scarred body. He watched as they flipped her into awkward positions and took whatever they could from her. Her face betrayed her more than once and showed her steely resolve was breaking…but she kept it. Figured they'd eventually get bored and stop. Rape is all about control, she's read that a thousand times. Fighting only makes it better for the attacker – she would not give them that satisfaction.

Despite the fact that the carnage was all around them earlier, they were both _alive_. Harley had _never_ felt a feeling like this before. Her mother died in her arms, and of course she was sad, she was pissed. But she was alive. She would honor her mother by living. Boone grabbed her small hand, and led her to a small sniper shack. They set up a fire, and in that moment, they both felt the need to control.

The urgent feeling of being loved, of being held had never happened to either of them like it happened right there in the sniper's shack. On the small bed, Boone wrestled for control, and it completely turned her on. She knew he needed this. Seeing her kill, so raw and powerful had turned him on like nothing he had ever felt before. He pinned her down with his weight, used his strength to overpower anything she could do, and after he wore himself out, he let her have control. It was smutty and vulgar, but in that moment, they both knew they would never leave the other unless they died. He pulled her hair hard, and she let out a yelp. With the way they were going, she was afraid the small metal shack would collapse around them. After they got the need to control of out their systems, all they had accomplished was wearing each other down after an already hard day. It was what they need, though. Each other. In that raw way.

They had survived. Miraculously. Without a clue as to how they did, but they did. _Boone was right, life has a way_.

* * *

_WHY DID I DO THAT TO MYSELF?_ :( _I liked Talia, too._


End file.
